The Secrets in Telling Part Two - The Drums of War
by iwantsprezzatura
Summary: My brother was always unpredictable. It was that him who had arguably caused all the upset in my life. I hated him. I loved him. I could not stay away. - Loki/OC - sequel to The Secrets in Telling - please read&review
1. Next to Normal

**Hello there! I know it's been very long, but, finally, here's is the sequel to "The Secrets in Telling".**

 **I hate having to say it, but the lawyer in me can't resist: I do not own anything that you recognize, be it characters, storylines, places or dialogue.**

 **Also, you don't need to worry about spoilers; the events of Thor:Ragnarok will be in this story, but only at the very end and that is still months away ;)  
I rambled enough now. Please enjoy!**

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 **Next to Normal**

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My brother was always unpredictable.

He could plan his steps for years to come, to ensure elaborate revenge or a perfect coup - and he could be rash and throw himself and everyone around him into chaos.  
He could assure me that he loved me one day - more than anything else in the world - and threaten to kill me the next. He would mean both of these things.  
He had always been wise beyond his years and yet he was perhaps the most foolish man I knew.  
He was a master with a dagger and yet everyone considered him a scholar rather than a warrior.

It was that him who had arguably caused all the upset in my life. Without him, I would never have been banished to Midgard. I would never have had to fight aliens in a Midgardian city. Without him, my father would still be alive and I would be home, and not plotting and planning in exile.

I hated him. I loved him.

Which was why I kept doing what I did. It did not matter that he had murdered Odin or had me imprisoned. It did not matter that he had faked his own death - twice - or that he had stolen my throne.  
I could not stay away for good.

Loki always threw a fit when I came. It was all pretend, of course, because he could have prevented me coming to him. Our magic was still connected and only he knew how to block this connection. If he had not wanted to see me, he could have just taken the ability away from me. He never did.

Today, he tried a new approach: Loki pretended to be too busy to see me. Until now, he had concealed his work from me and I had made no effort to find out any details. He would give nothing away.

"You better leave," he announced without looking up from his papers. It had not taken seconds for him to notice my projection - but then he would have felt the pull of our combined magic before he would ever see me.  
His desk was overflowing with notes and letters, some even had fallen to the floor and whole bunch had been deposited on his bed. It looked more like what I would expect of our brother Thor if he were the king - Loki usually kept things meticulously clean.

"I planned for other company tonight," Loki continued.

I did not believe it for a second. "I'm sure she's delightful." His lip curled into a sneer. "I won't keep you long."

"I said nothing about a girl," he bit back.

I quirked an eyebrow. "A man then?" I asked lightly. "How very open minded of you."

Loki glared at me, but it could not keep is attention. Instead, his eyebrows knotted together and he turned back to the report he had been studying.

I walked forward slowly. There were two voices screaming inside me: one who, reminiscent of old days, wanted to reach out and touch him; maybe lay a supporting hand on his shoulder and ease his mind.  
The other voice was much less friendly. It roared with jealousy at seeing him like this, worrying about decisions _I_ ought to have made, shouldering the burden of a crown that should have been mine.

Since Thor had refused the throne and Loki was not our father's son, the line of succession should have fallen to me - and it would have, had Loki not murdered our father and usurped the throne.

"Can I be of assistance?" I asked.

He slammed the paper on the table to prevent me from seeing. "You know that you can't."

I made a show of shrugging like this did not bother me. "Another time, then."

Loki closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, the shimmering green did not betray anything of the fatigue and exhaustion I knew he had to feel.  
"Tell me where you are, Eirlys."

My lips tugged into a smile. "You know I can't."

His eyes searched my face. "If only I could touch you..."

It must have escaped him before he could think further on what he was saying, because the Loki I had met on my trips to Asgard so far had never made any acknowledgment of affection or desire, whether I could feel it or not.  
He very rarely let me feel his emotions now and I sometimes felt almost numb because of it. When we had first connected, the sharing of emotions had been as natural as the sharing of magic. Sadly, it was not, anymore.

Right now, he allowed it and the curiosity that burned inside him also echoed inside me. The curiosity was not for me, though, but for knowledge - and power.  
"How do you do it?" he asked. "How do you make your illusions solid?"

We had worked on that for years. Decades, even. It had always escaped us.  
I cocked my head to the side. "We can trade secrets, if you like."

His face fell. "I'm not telling you how to break our connection."

"Then, I'm afraid, you won't learn how to make the illusions solid," I said. "And I certainly won't risk you pulling me over here."

Loki sneered at me again. "I'll find out on my own," he said.

"Likewise."

This was what we did best: fight. It could barely be otherwise; after all that had been said and done, it was a wonder that we could exchange two full civil sentences.  
We only came together like this because after everything, we still could not bear to be away from each other for too long.

I wondered if Mother had foreseen something like this all those centuries ago, when she had forced us to study together. Had she known the bond she would create? Or was this connection we shared as unnatural as I had always feared it was?

A knock on the door interrupted my musings. Loki straightened immediately and I turned slightly to see if they entered without further notice. They did not.

"I should leave you to it," I said. I had not thought that someone would actually be coming.

Loki's tongue darted out to wet his lips. "You should know-"

My lips twitched. "That it doesn't mean anything?" I asked. "Don't worry, I know."

His eyebrows rose. It seemed he wanted to speak again, but another knock sounded from the door, this time more insistent. She had to be quite something if she dared be so insolent. Or maybe it was a man after all - who knew with Loki?

"You should get that," I said. "I'll see you soon."

With constant practice, it became easier and easier to send out and detract the illusions. What had once taken a lot of effort and could only be done under the right circumstances now felt like second nature.  
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, I found myself back in my rooms in Vanaheim.

The change was profound: Asgard was, in all its ways, lavish and impressive. My rooms had been luxurious, door frames had been adorned with gold and the walls were covered in marble.  
Vanaheim was different. Its palace was built into the woods; the ceilings were covered in leafs and one had to take care not to stumble over roots in the ground.

A small stream ran through my room and I had settled closed to it on the floor. When I returned to reality, I reached out and let my fingers glide into the water. A sigh of relief escaped me at the cool stream playing on my skin.

"Again?"

A gruff voice sounded from the door. It was Hogun, Thor's old comrade and member of the Warrior's Three. Even among his own people, at home and relaxed, he wore his armour religiously and his black hair was combed back strictly.

As Heimdall had predicted when he had sent me here, Freyr, the king of Vanaheim, had offered me shelter at once. Perhaps because Hogun had vouched for me or because they had not forgotten their relations to my late mother.  
Ever since then, Hogun had taken to watching over me. It had not taken him long to figure out that I had not broken my ties as surely as I had claimed I did. If he had also figured out that Loki and I were more than brother and sister - if we were being very technical, Loki and I were not brother and sister at all - I could not tell. If he had, he did not betray any surprise or disgust.

"Perhaps," I said. I dried my fingers on the hem of my skirt and rose from the ground. "Any news from Asgard?"

Since Loki would not speak up, we had to rely on the gossip and diplomatic news that reached us in the conventional way. Hogun kept sending messages to his old friends - I usually spotted Sif's handwriting - but I had begged him not to tell them the truth. Knowing them, they would try to bring Loki down in open battle, which would never succeed and only cost us our informants.  
Hogun's expression had not changed when I had brought forth all these arguments, but he seemed to agree - Sif still thought she was serving Odin.

"Not a lot," Hogun said. "Sif considers her king a little more erratic than usual, but blames it on the loss of his children and old age."

I quirked an eyebrow. "I wonder when he will reveal himself," I said. "He can't pretend to be our father forever."

King Freyr also thought that Odin was still alive; he just believed that the old man was going senile and tossing the Nine Realms into chaos. The story was formidably supported, because none of the usual payments had reached Vanaheim as of late.

"He better take some time," Hogun said. "We are not ready to face him."

I shrugged. First, because there was no 'we': there was only an 'I'. I was glad to take any help I could get, but in the end, this was on me. Second, because if there was one thing I had learned from my father, it was to always pretend that anything could be done.

Hogun folded his arms behind his back. It almost seemed like he wanted to say something else, but did not - which was no wonder, because Hogun never said anything if he could get around it.

"What about tonight?" I asked.

He turned when I walked past him and only answered when I started sorting the papers on my desk. "As always," Hogun said. "I would prefer you not go."

Indeed, he always warned me not to go to festivities. He warned that the niceties of the Vanir court were just that - only niceties to cover up their real intentions.  
Which, in any case, was not very different from the Asgardian court.

"How am I to gather support if I don't socialise?" I asked lightly. Socialising was awful. "Besides, I promised Freyr and it's no good offending my host."

Hogun's jaw clenched, but he did not contradict me. I even raised an eyebrow to prompt him, but nothing came.  
I shrugged again. If only he would tell me _why_ he would prefer me not going - what was he afraid of? These half-warnings were not adequate counsel. I ached for a true conversation.

"Well then," I said and it came out more tight-lipped than I had expected. "I'll follow the invitation. You're free to go or not go, as you please."

He squared his shoulders. "I will be there."

In a way, Vanir feasts were very different from Asgardian feasts. Women were dressed in robes that would have merely considered light summer wear in Asgard, and certainly not ball gowns. Men came in their hunting gear. Thor and his friends would regularly go in their battle armour, too, but that was hardly comparable.  
They also did not dance. Indeed, they let people dance for them. I personally did not think that it was very entertaining, but the Vanir clearly did.

On the other hand, they were exactly like Asgardian feasts. Everyone arrived, no one really wanted to be there and therefore everyone got terribly drunk.  
Therefore, leaving a Vanir feast was a risky business - not every couple that had found itself in a drunk stupor could make it back to their room before they tore each others clothes off. Sometimes, they did not even find a secluded corner.

I had never liked feasts. They were too loud and too rash and too impersonal for my tastes and Vanir feasts were not any different in that regard.  
At home, I used to go because my mother had asked me to. Here, I pretended to go because her nephew, the king, had asked me to and really went because I hoped for useful connections.

Freyr insisted on escorting me in every time and also insisted on me taking a place by his side. I always accepted as graciously as I could, but secretly wondered when he would tire of me - would the novelty not wear off? Should it not have by now?  
Every time, various noblemen introduced themselves to me. I did not mind it as such - I would need them eventually if I wanted to go to war. After all, I would need soldiers, weapons and not to mention money that I did not have myself. Or rather, that I could not access.

I tried to be as charming as I could, tried to smile and laugh and listen as attentively as possible - which was not always easy, because being born a nobleman did not mean that one was born smart or witty. Rather, they told me the same stories about their estates or their treasures or their famous friends and their wives; I bore it with all the patience I could muster, which was a lot more than I had originally thought possible.  
The only question that remained was when I would finally break.

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 **I'm sure glad I'm back on this story. Please feel free to leave me a review if you can spare the time - it'd make me very happy :)**


	2. No Place Like Home

**Okay, guys, thank you so much - the response was amazing and I'm so excited to be back with this story and to find that you're excited, too!  
Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and most of all to the nine people who reviewed.**

 **Enjoy the new chapter!**

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 **No Place Like Home**

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I was very close to snapping every single time I visited a feast; it was draining and tedious. It was not very different on that day. Indeed, that day was especially taxing, perhaps because my visit to Loki kept playing in my mind.

That day, Freyr introduced me to a man called Ullr who was at least twice my age and owned land the size of Europe.

"I have to say," he told me about five minutes after meeting. "I don't quite know why you bother with this war business."

My eyebrows rose. "Because I have a right to the throne," I said. "And my father seems quite out of it lately. What would _you_ have me do?"

His mouth opened and closed three or four times before he finally said, "Well, _marry._ " Ullr blinked as if he had surprised himself. "I am sure any husband would be happy to ride into battle for you-"

So he was not bothered by the actual fighting. He was bothered that a woman was going to do it.  
I forced myself to smile at him. "If I am to be queen," I said. "Wouldn't it be more suitable if I rode to war myself?"

Once again, I could observe the opening and closing of his mouth. "Of course," he finally said, though he clearly disagreed.

It was not the first time I encountered that sort of thing: all of Vanaheim seemed to believe that I should get married as soon as possible. Which I did not plan to do, not now or ever.  
I had had enough of this marriage business since my father had betrothed me to Kvass - who had ironically also been from Vanaheim. He, I believed, had liked me well enough, but I could not stand him and the matter had only been resolved when Loki had robbed him of all his memories and sent him away.

"As I understand," Ullr continued now. "Many of my friends are apprehensive about going to war with Asgard. I am sure you understand, we have been allies for millennia and the Allfather has never indicated any enmity-"

"I understand that," I said. "And I know I ask for a lot when I ask for the trust of a people who have never met me, but I can assure you-"

"Oh, really now."  
King Freyr swept into our conversation. He threw one arm around me and waited with a cocked head until Ullr had finished his exaggerated bow.  
"This is no time for _politics_. This a time for feasting. Have you tasted Skirmir's mead yet?" he asked Ullr. "Best we've had in years."

I ducked out from under his arm, trying not to let him know that he made me uncomfortable as I did.  
"Milord," I said lightly. "I have been just trying to tell Ullr-"

"I haven't," Ullr cut across me. "But I'll certainly get right to it."

With that, he was gone. My insides coiled up so tightly that I felt close to snipping - but I could not let it out. I kept smiling at Freyr and only allowed my fingers to curl tightly around the fabric of my skirt.

"My people," Freyr said. "Are generally peaceful."

I inclined my head. "I admire that."

I would, if it were true. Indeed, the Vanir had fought wars against Asgard and with Asgard and against themselves more times than anyone could count.  
Freyr did not want to go to war - and I could respect that. Only, it was not a thing of principle. It was a matter of finding the right price and I just had not found it yet.

"They may be reluctant to go to war for you."

"I will go to war for myself," I shot back. "I just need their support in doing it."

Freyr shrugged. "They might do it for one of their own," he said. "They won't do it for a stranger. A foreign princess they have never seen before."

I raised my chin. "They know me now," I said. "And if that isn't enough, mayhap they ought to remember my mother."

His eyes narrowed slightly, which was Freyr's version of flinching. This was also my version of finally snapping.  
I considered myself Queen of Asgard, Protector of all Nine Realms and Allmother and I would not be told by anyone that I was not trustworthy or a lowly foreigner. Most importantly, I would not let King Freyr tell me that.

It took at least another hour before I could excuse myself and make a run for it. I ignored any and all signs of people copulating in the hallways and made my way back towards my rooms. At the last minute, I took a turn left; the closer I had gotten, the less excited I was about going there.  
Chances were that Hogun would want to talk to me again - I could not take it when he was specifically not being smug. He must have felt something like it; I could not imagine that any man was as cold as Hogun pretended to be.

The Vanir palace felt like a park even on the inside, but their gardens were even more beautiful. Lights danced between the leaves of the trees; even in the night, part of their flowers were blooming, some even glistening in a gentle blue. It was as if you had stepped right into nature even as the civilisation was brimming mere feet away.

There was a bench that at least protected me from view if someone stepped outside. Hogun might come looking for me and I did not want him to find me.  
I craned my neck to look at the night sky. The beauty around me did not matter; my heart ached for Asgard, its high arches and tumultuous waterfalls, the golden roofs and broad stone ways.

"I am lonely," I told the night sky. "Would you believe it?"

For a moment, I felt ridiculous. I stood in the middle of the park in my ball dress, no one around, the party almost over and talked to the sky like a madman. Then he took me away  
Heimdall's force took over my mind. A smile spread across my lips as Vanaheim vanished before my mind and was replaced with the splendid image of Heimdall's observatory.

Heimdall was the gatekeeper of Asgard; he guarded te Bifrost, Asgard's mode of travel and a valuable source of power. Heimdall was gatekeeper because he had the gift of sight; he saw everyone and everywhere.

That was, he saw almost everything - he usually could not see me. Ever since I could manage it, I preferred to not let him trace my every step and have some privacy.

Things were different in Vanaheim, though. Here, it seemed like a comfort that someone could watch over me if the need arose.

Heimdall was stoic and tall as he had always been; yet his face that twisted into a frown. His eyes were fixed on my face and yet seemed to look right through me.

"Milady." Heimdall inclined his head slightly. "We don't have long."

My eyes wandered over to the palace where the lights in the large bedrooms that belonged to the king - already my heart ached for him again. I wondered if Loki could now that Heimdall had called me here; this was his magic after all, and not mine. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry.

"You're right," I said. "What news?"

"Loki has commissioned a statue," Heimdall said. "Of himself."

"How very fitting," I said.  
This did not surprise me at all. Indeed, it was exactly what I would expect him to do. Which was why I also did not consider this much news.

"Anything else?"

Heimdall's lips twitched. "I believe he prepares Asgard so he can return to his true form."

I shook my head. "It's too soon," I said. "If he revealed himself now, he'd have Sif's sword in his chest before he finished his first sentence."

His smile widened even more - it was rare to catch the gatekeeper in such good spirits. "Would that ever change?"

I smiled as well. No, that would never change. If anyone could be relied on to never bow to Loki, it was Sif. If I knew her, she would rather die than accept Loki's rule - and if I knew Loki right, she even might.

"He hides from me," Heimdall said. "So it is hard to say."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why would he possibly do it?" I asked. "He'd need a good reason, or he'd play this game for years. It suits his character."

Heimdall nodded thoughtfully. His eyes were fixed on the far end of the Rainbow Bridge. I could not see anyone approaching, but that did not meant that no one was there.

"What have you seen, Gatekeeper?" I said. "That you suspect this?"

He raised his chin high. "I haven't seen," he said. "But he seems restless."

Loki had, at the very least, seemed overworked. And who knew who had been at the door - I had suspected a girl who would not even know that he was not the Allfather; perhaps it had been an accomplice all along. Perhaps he or she was still with him a this very moment.  
My eyes travelled back to the dim light at the palace window. I could have checked on him right now if I wanted to. See what he was up to.

I did not want to go. If he was indeed with a girl, I did not want to know - I most certainly did not want to see it, even less if he kept the appearance of my father.

"If he does reveal himself," I said. "I rely on you to tell me at once."

"Of course, milady." Heimdall inclined his head. "You will find me at your service."

"Good," I said.

I took a few steps towards the Rainbow Bridge, following the pull inside me. The rushing of the waterfall that marked the edge of Asgard filled my ears. The Rainbow Bridge glittered in the moonlight. It was beautiful. Tears stung in my eyes and my heart twisted - if only I could stay. Nothing in Vanaheim looked even remotely as comforting as Asgard's high towers.

I heard a clunk behind me. The tip of Heimdall's sword had hit the ground as he bowed to Loki.  
It was not him, of course - just slightly, I felt the strain of magic that meant he was projecting himself. He leant, eerily relaxed, against one of the pillars that surrounded the room.

He did not see me. Of course he did not - I only shared Heimdall's consciousness and was not truly there. Still, my heart jumped in my throat.

"How are the Nine Realms?" he demanded.

"Silent," Heimdall answered.

"And my sister?" he continued.

It was like a slap in the face. Did he regularly ask for me? It seemed that way and yet I could not believe that it was true.  
Heimdall straightened. "She danced tonight."

Loki hummed in response. "And where?"

"I can't see that," Heimdall answered.

Even though it did nothing, I held my breath. I did not fear for Heimdall, who was powerful enough to defend himself; but it sure was not wise to tell such blatant lies to Loki.

Indeed, I could see Loki's shoulders tense. "Maybe you are losing your touch."

"You've told me that before," Heimdall said. "You were wrong even then."

I, too, remembered the day that Loki had said that before. Then, he had plotted to let our enemies into Asgard. I could only pray to the Norns that he would not do such a thing again.

"Tell her," Loki said, his anger just barely contained. "That if she sets even one foot in Asgard-"

"Tell her yourself," Heimdall answered. "If you can find her."

Taunting him was perhaps even bolder than lying to him. If there was one trait that my brothers shared, it was pride and neither of them handled a blow to it particularly well.

"You ought to think on your allegiance," Loki said. His voice had become silky, which indicated danger like nothing else. "Lest I have to replace you."

My stomach clenched. Losing Heimdall would be a fatal blow to my plans, not to mention that I would hate to cause him trouble; he had been the sole reason for my escape and I owed him. Besides, what would Asgard do without its trusted gatekeeper? My people would be left unprotected.

"I am clear in my allegiance," Heimdall said. "And I can assure you, milord, that-"

But Loki was gone. Just another tiny pull and his illusion had disappeared again.  
He had left me speechless. I felt even more drained than before; my eyes were burning and I felt sick now. If things went well, he would only fire Heimdall. If things went like they usually did with Loki, he would do much worse.

"You heard him," Heimdall said. "You should return."

"If you are in any danger, you come to me and-"

Heimdall shook his head. "There is no danger for me."

Once again, the world dissolved in front of my eyes. I struggled against it - I needed to tell him, to assure him, to just do anything, even though there was nothing I could do - but it was no use.

My struggle made me fall backwards of the bench that I had been sitting on. I landed flat on my butt in one of King Freyr's flower fields. The beautiful dress Freyr had given me would be ruined for good now. I did not care.  
Asgard was in peril - and yet, I was happier than I had been in a long while. I had seen my home again; there was little more valuable than that.

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 **Please leave me a review if you enjoyed this (or didn't... I suppose ;) )!**


	3. Charades

**Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and most of all to the people who reviewed! Please enjoy the new chapter :)**

* * *

 **Charades**

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My tumble into King Freyr's flowerbeds had apparently destroyed a couple of very valuable blossoms. He did not say as much to me, but it was rumoured that King Freyr had thrown a right fit about it. He had supposedly screamed; something that the reserved Vanir king supposedly never did.

I _did_ feel bad about it, though. I did not like destroying other people's property if I could help it. I could not help feeling a little bit amused, as well. Who would have thought that it took the smashing of a few dandelions to finally get Freyr to snap.

Hogun, as per usual, made an uncanny guess as to why I would have fallen and had not stopped berating me since. He thought it was dangerous to create any illusions outside the safety of my rooms - and he might have been right. Still, I did not exactly have a choice when Heimdall decided to call me home or not.  
Either way, Hogun would not leave my side and kept whispering suggestions to me, trying to steer me away from potential dangers that were basically nonexistent.

In the meantime, I tried buttering up to the noblemen again. I needed men and I desperately needed money. If Loki would indeed reveal myself, I would have to be at his doorstep at once, ideally in the moment he did it. Right now, this seemed like a fool's dream.

Ullr, especially, tried to weasel his way out of this situation. I kept asking him for his support and he would start talking about his summer house or the latest hunting trip.

"As I said," he told me after I had tried for maybe the fifth time. "In your position, I would go looking for a husband."

Involuntarily, a groan left my throat. There was barely anything that I hated more than the thought of looking for a husband.  
"I don't need a husband to take my throne," I told him.

He shrugged. "You need money," he told me. "I couldn't imagine any easier way than to just marry the money you need."

The thing I hated perhaps the most was that he had a point. If I married, I would not have to be a beggar anymore; I could pay my men with my own money - more or less, at least.  
Unfortunately, I would also actually have a husband, then. No man would marry the heiress to the Asgardian throne if he did not think that he could be king himself. There were no rich men without that ambition.

Hogun frowned even more deeply after that conversation. I was not particularly keen on his opinion, but I did not have anyone else to listen to.

"Do speak," I said. "Before you implode."

His jaw clenched and his hand twitched before he finally said, "Your father would approve of this idea."

My lip curled. I had no doubt that he would have. My father had always put the good of the country over the good of his family. The distress and pain of his children had never been his concern, unless pretending so furthered his goals.  
Many people had called my father a great king and still did. I did not know if I wanted to be that kind of monarch.

"And my mother?" I asked. "What would she have said?"

Hogun squared his shoulders, but he offered no answer. It was no wonder; no one had the wisdom that my mother had called her own.  
But it was because of my mother that I had to do this - leaving Asgard in Loki's hands was an insult to her memory. I would have to do anything I could to take it back; even if that made me unhappy.

"Maybe you are right," I told Hogun. His eyebrows pulled together. "We should go looking for a suitable match," I continued. "Someone very rich and preferably not very smart."

"Milady?"

"I can't have my own husband trying to take my throne from me," I said. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Hogun did not quite know what to say and I did not want him to say anything; if I thought about this too long and hard, I would not go through with it.

King Freyr lit up and suddenly forgot about his flowerbeds when he heard that I was now on the marriage market. For hours on end, he would talk about the virtues of this or that nobleman - they were all related to him in some fashion. I did not bother looking up the exact family tree, but I knew enough about my relations to Freyr through my mother that I did not want to marry any of his relatives.  
There had been enough talk about my supposed incestuous relations to last me a lifetime.

Until that moment, I had not known what courting involved, exactly. Back in the day, my parents had done the work - they had invited a few men who were apparently to their liking and then they had quickly settled on Kvass. I could not remember having any part in that decision.  
I did not want it to be like that again and yet it had been so much easier. It was tedious and I terribly missed a knowledgeable woman to advise me - honestly, I would have settled for any woman. Even Sif.

The first man they introduced was a guy named Agnarr, who owned a large amount of money, but also had a large nose and a large ego. He knew very little about Asgard and did not try to pretend otherwise; he was still convinced that he knew a lot better than me about how to invade the place.

"I believe," he proclaimed. "That a frontal attack with an overwhelming force is the only honourable way!"

I believed that such an approach would definitely get us all killed. Hogun, on the other hand, agreed that such an attack would be very honourable, indeed. In my mind, my disapproval of Agnarr also meant that Hogun would never be one of my generals. I did not need honourable; I needed proficient.

The next one they introduced, Gaddi, did not think himself to be a military expert, and he also did not seem to have a lot of interest in reigning or really anything apart from so-called 'red-crested slugs' that were apparently native to Vanaheim.

"But then," I asked after half an hour walk through the gardens that taught me more about slugs than I had ever cared to know. "Why would you want to court me?"

Gaddi blinked exaggeratedly. "Well," he said slowly. "My parents are very keen that I marry." He scratched his head. "They also want heirs, I suppose."

"Any children of mine," I said. "Will be heirs to the throne of Asgard before anything else."

His lips quirked into a small smile. "I don't care for children, really," he said. "Did you know that red-crusted slugs don't raise their children, either? They lay eggs and leave them."

"Fascinating," I said.

This time, even Hogun agreed that this might not be the right choice - King Freyr, of course, thought that he had made a great pick. He did not think that an unhealthy obsession with slugs or even an aversion to procreation was a big problem. Money, he thought, was the important factor here.

He was not entirely wrong, but Asgardian lives were long. I could not stand centuries of hearing about slugs and I had to keep that in mind, as well.

The remaining one was my pick, a man called Hálfr. I had not paid particular attention to any information about him; I had simply picked the number one in terms of inheritance. It had clearly been a mistake.  
Hálfr was the touchy-feely type. In all probability, he had always gotten what he wanted and was not pleased at all when he did not get it. Once I returned to my quarters, I was dead set on never marrying after all.

Hogun was wise enough not to ask for any details; Freyr was not quite as clever.

"The last one didn't want any children," he said. "This one can't wait and it's not right, either!"

"You're kidding," I said. "Right? He shouldn't treat any woman like that, future wife or not - I don't care how desperately I need the mine, I want better than that. I _deserve_ better than that."

Freyr rolled his eyes, but he did not dare protest after that. It was almost disappointing; the punishing magic was tickling in my fingers already.  
Hogun was stoic as always, but he, too, did not dare meet my eyes. If he felt bad for either leaving me with Hálfr or for not interrupting Freyr sooner, he deserved it.

After all this, we were still left with no suitable candidate for marriage. Of course, there were potentially dozens more to choose from - albeit with decreasing amounts of wealth. If meeting with them was anything like meeting with the first few, I did not care for it at all.

It was not even that I longed for Loki. Loki was cruel and furious when he did not get his way. He could be cold-hearted and obsessive. And, Odin's beard, he could be jealous.  
I did not need any of that in a husband, certainly not in one who was only supposed to pay and sit still otherwise. I needed someone compliant and moderately nice. Apparently, that was the hardest sort to find.

By now, the entire realm knew that Asgard's queen - or to most of them, rather, Asgard's princess - was searching for a husband. Everyone now made suggestions and I regularly found bouquets on my doorstep from men that I had never heard of and who certainly did not have the amount of money or influence necessary.

By week two, it became decidedly annoying. I could not go anywhere without a horde of young men following me around. It was even worse when they did not come, but sent their mothers instead. They would give me small prints of paintings, assuring me that their son was even more handsome in real life. In most cases, I could only hope that was true.

Hogun had changed his tone and kept telling me why this or that candidate was unsuitable. King Freyr, on the other hand, had words of praise for everyone.  
It was not only exhausting, but terribly frustrating.

"Maybe we should take a vacation," Hogun suggested. "This situation could become dangerous soon."

"I'm not afraid," I said. "Besides, I can't afford to go on vacation now. We might need to march any moment and I don't have a single man in arms."

"This is ridiculous!"  
It was perhaps the first time that I heard Hogun raise his voice. He seemed taken aback himself; following his voice, his expression escaped him as well. His eyes widened when he realized what he had said and his face reddened.

My lips twitched. "Please," I said. "Go ahead."

Hogun squared his shoulders and cleared his throat. Just like that, he put up the usual facade again. "If this continues," he said much more mellowly. "Loki will hear of it. He'll know where you are and all of this will be for naught."

He did have a point. If Loki were to find out, he would probably ride here with flaming swords and bristling horses. Even if I could escape, that would mean destruction all over Vanaheim. If I seriously considered myself Queen of All the Nine Realms, I could not let that happen.  
I still did not think that going on a vacation was the solution. The solution was to resolve this matter as quickly as possible.

"I just need to pick one of these idiots and marry him," I said. "How bad can it get?"

It could probably get a lot worse than I wanted to imagine right now. My best bet so far was the snail-loving Gaddi, and that seemed to make for an incredibly dull life.

I did not get to announce my decision to anyone - not to Gaddi, and certainly not to Freyr. He instead invited me to another feast, an invitation that I gladly accepted; I had not quite given up hope to find a better candidate yet.

"I'm happy to tell you," Freyr said. "That we'll have a new guest tonight. I think you'll find him quite agreeable. He'd be a good match and I have inquired - he has no interest in parasites."

"That sounds superb," I said. "I'd do a lot for a man not interested in parasites."

Freyr nodded as if he understood my plight, though I was sure that his queen had never shown an interest in red-crusted slugs. I could not imagine that there were many people who had an interest in red-crusted slugs.

"Good," Freyr said exuberantly. "I'm sure you will enjoy him." He took a step back and craned his neck to see past me. His face lightened up. "There he is!"

I turned to see where he pointed. My heart skipped a beat, and not because it was a pleasant surprise. Quite the contrary: right at the entrance of the ball room stood none other than my former fiancé. Kvass.

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	4. Old Acquaintances

**I'm sorry I didn't update last week - I couldn't get it done on the weekend and then all the days after, it was a hopeless attempt. I'll try my best to get the next chapter out on time next week!  
**

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* * *

 **Old Acquaintances**

* * *

Without wasting a second, Kvass' eyes fixed directly on me, as if he had already known where I was. There was no doubt in my mind that he had recognized me - that expression on his face left no room for interpretation.  
The thing was, he should not remember me. If it was only that, though, I could live with it - the question was: what else did he remember? If he remembered everything, that could only mean disaster.

Years back, when Loki and I had officially still been siblings and no one had been supposed to know that we were more than that, Kvass had found out the truth. It had been no more than a lucky guess, but it was enough to make Loki snap. Kvass had left Asgard without any specific memory of his time there.

I had been comforted by the knowledge that Kvass knew nothing incriminating and would never return into my life. Yet here he was. My throat was suddenly as dry as the deserts of Svartalfheim. I had also gone stock-still, but King Freyr paid no heed, even if he noticed.  
Instead, he waved enthusiastically to Kvass, who was now approaching us as quickly as the thick crowd would allow him.

My heartrate sped up. Did I look him in the eye now or pretend that I did not know him? I did not know which option was safer. Either way, this was bound to be embarrassing.

"My king!" Kvass bowed dutifully to King Freyr, maybe even a little too long and a little too deep. Then he turned sharply to me. "Milady," he said. "I have heard so many things!"

For a moment, I swayed between relief and suspicion. Then I remembered that we were not in private and Freyr was already nudging me for an answer.

"Milord," I said. "A pleasure."

Our eyes met for the first time. His grey eyes bored into mine and all hope I had still harboured vanished immediately. I looked into the eyes of a wronged man: a rage was sparkling in those eyes as well as a cold drive that might have been a lust for revenge.

I raised my chin and put on my brightest smile when I turned back to Freyr. "Well, I thank you for introducing us. But if you would excuse me now-"

"Surely," Kvass interrupted. "Milady will grant me five minutes of her time? It'd be an utmost honour."

Freyr nudged me again. When I still hesitated, he nudged me a little harder. Between that and Kvass' expectantly extended hand, there was no choice left  
I accepted Kvass' offer and saw Freyr's self-satisfied smile in the corner of my eye. Kvass' fingers wrapped a little too tightly around mine.

Since they did not dance, couples in Vanaheim tended to take strolls around the ballroom and watched the artists and performers.  
Before I knew it, Kvass had pulled me closer to him. If he whispered now, no one else would hear. My stomach dropped. The girl that had been unable to tell her parents that she did not like her fiancé was suddenly very much present again.  
Kvass had never been particularly in tune to private spaces or other people's emotions. I could not tell if he was aware now, but I thought we were entirely too close.

"I want to be honest," he said. "So I have to tell you - I remember."

I squared my shoulders and tried to conceal the pang in my chest. "I figured," I said. "And to be completely honest, too - I'm not pleased."

"I figured," he said.

A group of dancers bent their bodies and waved shawls in a rhythm so that you could barely see where the body ended and the fabric started.  
I did not know to proceed; judging by the sudden tension in Kvass' posture, he did not, either. What were you supposed to say someone who had your memory wiped? What were you supposed to say when you had wiped?

"Aren't you apologizing?" he asked.

"No."

The answer came more automatically than anything else, but I would not have taken it back. Not that I thought it was right to rob people of their memory; but at the time, I had seen no other option.

Kvass' jaw clenched tightly. "I expected an apology."

"I don't care much what you expected," I said. "You and I were forced together and you had no concept of being discrete. If you ask me, you can be glad Loki didn't kill you."

His grip on me got even tighter, but different than that girl from years ago, I did not take it without complaint. Instead, I pulled free and stepped out of his reach.

"I would advise discretion now," I told him. "Or I'll be forced to finish what my brother started."

Kvass sneered, but he inclined his head. I did not know if I could ever actually kill him - I had never killed a man in my life and surely did not want to start with Kvass. I would not let him ruin this, though. I would not allow this man to stand in the way of my throne.  
I nodded as well. Kvass feigned a short bow. I stepped past him and did my very best not to look around to him again as I left the feast.

I tried to walk as quickly as possible. The moment I deemed it safe, I projected myself forward; a switch between projections had long been possible and it allowed me to skip several corridors now.  
I threw the door closed behind me as soon as I could. The snap echoed in my ears - it seemed way too loud for a peaceful surrounding like that. The water of the small stream kept gurgling away as if nothing had happened. It made me even more tense. There was definitely a headache coming on.

I had very little confidence in my threat. If I were Kvass, I certainly would not step aside that easily. I would keep demanding my apology and I would not go away silently; if the glint in his eye was any indication, he was the same way.

This was a disaster. I wanted nothing more than to punch Loki in the face - this was absolutely his fault; there had to have been something wrong with his spell.  
Maybe I wanted to hug Loki a little bit more. Tears pooled in my eyes at the thought. I would do a lot for a bit of comfort right now.

My eyes fixed on the running stream. Not that I expected any comfort from it, but I could not help myself. Even while my body moved forward to settle by the stream, my magic was reaching out for its partner.

"C'mon," I muttered to myself. "I know you're there."

He was there. Loki had probably expected me to reach out for him and his magic wrapped around my soul like a tight blanket. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.  
The projection opened her eyes again and I found Loki wandering the private gardens of Asgard's palace. Years and years ago, we had found a hole in a hedge here; we had used it to sneak out and perform the ritual that had bound us together.

"I figured you wouldn't come here again," Loki said. His voice was quiet, but it still carried over the distance between us.

"Why?" I asked.

"I know you're talking to Heimdall," he said. His voice still did no betray any emotion. "You'd think he'd advise you against this."

I hummed in response. This was not what I wanted to talk about, but I also could not talk about what I wanted to - if I told him about Kvass, he would figure out where I was on in no time.

"I wish you'd stop hiding," Loki continued.

I almost blurted out that I missed him. Almost. We were in no place for sentimentality, but I had come to see him to remind me of a time when the most important thing in the entire world had been him and I. That was the world that I longed for; everything had been so complicated back then and yet, retrospectively, it seemed so much easier:  
Loki and I against the rest of the world, Asgard's throne be damned.

"How are you?" I asked instead. This was the closest I allowed myself to get to an admission of care.

His eyes narrowed and his shoulders tensed. For a moment, a bit of fright and rage fuelled up inside me, emotions that were not mine. Then he shut me out. It was as if someone had slammed a door in my face.

"None of your business," he said.

I took a step forward and I had already extended my hand before I thought better of it; I could not touch him anyway. "Are you safe?" I insisted. "Is Asgard safe?"

For a moment, it seemed like he might answer me. His brow furrowed and his mouth opened slightly; then he caught himself. It was barely there, but he was shaking his head.  
A sigh escaped me. Loki had always been an introverted person; it had always been difficult to get anything out of him, while he, himself, was able to talk anyone into anything he wanted.

"Forget it," I said. "Never mind."

His eyes narrowed at me. "What do you know?" he demanded. "Out with it, then!"

"Nothing," I admitted.  
I did not care to pretend otherwise, though it hardly mattered. Loki did not believe me, anyway. It would have done him some good to allow our emotional connection.  
He had to feel the loss, too. It could not be otherwise. I knew how starved I felt and how empty when he shut me out. Not that I would ever tell him. Or he tell me - maybe we were better off without each other.

"You were always a terrible liar," he said.

"And you used to be better at telling truth from lie," I said. "You're losing your touch."

His jaw clenched. Danger was written in his face, but I was not afraid - I was far away and I also did not let Loki bully me, anymore. Both of us were either strong together or unable to harm the other. Loki was keeping us apart these days.

"You should go to sleep," I told him. "You look like Hel."

He flinched slightly. His lip curled back in a sneer. I smiled in response. My gaze travelled once more around the garden and to the fateful hedge.

"Are you leaving?" I heard Loki ask - it sounded almost longing, almost a bit desperate. I closed my eyes. Luckily, he could not see the tears that quelled in my eyes anymore.

In the days that followed, I avoided company. I told Hogun that I did not need his advice; King Freyr was told that I was not feeling well. I only snuck out at night, when I could be fairly certain that I would not run into Kvass. Whether he was still at court or not, another meeting was not on my to-do-list.

This habit was hell for my recruitment efforts. On my late night walks around the gardens, it seemed that I would never make it back to Asgard; at the very least, I would not return to it as a victorious queen, but, if at all, as a prisoner.  
I did not have an army. Sooner or later, Loki would reveal himself or find out my location. The situation was perfectly hopeless.

Two weeks after, I still had not spoken to anyone. It was starting to take it's toll: I felt starved for contact and yet I could not bear to be around anyone, and it seemed to get worse everyday.  
On that night, I did not make it for an entire walk; indeed, I sat down on the nearest bench and stared into nothingness.

"You look like Hel."

It was Kvass. Of course it was; I should have never thought that I could escape fate. Mother had always taught us not to run from our mistakes. It had been inevitable that I could not run from this one.

"I feel like Hel," I told him. "Will you have a seat?"

He sat down next to me without another word. Together, we sat in silence. From inside, we could hear the laughter and chatting of guests leaving yet another feast; I only hoped that none of them would find their way outside in search of a secluded place.

"As I understand," Kvass said after all. "You are looking for a husband. With money and men, preferably. I have those things. And as you know, I have always wanted to marry you."

"I can't imagine why you would want to marry me now," I said. "After everything."

His eyebrows rose mockingly. "After you lead me on and then erased my memory?" he asked.

I shrugged. "You mean, after my parents pressured me into marrying you and you threatened my reputation?"

He cracked a grin. "And you're not even sorry."

I was not. Even after thoroughly thinking about it, I could not bring myself to be sorry. The thought of marrying Kvass was still sickening and I could not regret anything that had spared me for years.

"I'd still do it," he said. "You're still beautiful and still Asgard's only heiress. I haven't yet understood why you want to wage war against your father, but I'm in. You can have whatever you want."

I bit my lip. My stomach clenched, but I could not help myself - I had to tell someone or I would go mad, and I did not see how it would hurt to tell him: because in that moment, there was no doubt in me that this was the man I would marry, sickening thought or not. It was better than red-crusted slugs.

"It's not my father," I said. "It's Loki. He's killed him and pretends to be our father ever since. Maybe now you understand - I have to save my home."

Kvass' mouth had dropped open. He shook his head slightly, then looked over to the dent and back at me. "Loki?" he repeated. "Pretends to be your father? I thought your brother was dead."

"Not my brother," I said and waved away further confusion - I did not have any interest in going into details right now. "But no, he's not dead. He is sitting on my throne, and I want it back."

Kvass had caught himself. He had shut his mouth and squared his shoulders. With a sparkle in his eye, he leant forward. "I would love to help with that."  
Then he kissed me on the cheek.

* * *

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	5. Down The Aisle They Go

**Guys, I'm sorry - I wanted to update and then I didn't manage to do it and then it was Christmas and then this site had some bug and the chapter couldn't be uploaded.  
Seriously, I'm not abandoning this story or whatever, but updates may be a little bit irregular in the future; I'm graduating next semester (fingers crossed) and it's quite stressful.**

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* * *

 **Down The Aisle They Go**

* * *

King Freyr was delighted. All of Vanaheim was absolutely delighted. Hogun was moderately pleased, which was a lot more than I was - I was mostly relieved that the damned search was over.  
The result did not make me happy, but it was better than having no results; it gave us perspective when we had previously been running out of time.

The moment Kvass and I had officially announced our engagement, he had begun recruiting men. It went a lot faster than I had expected, though I was unsure if he had set this up before or if it was just his status coming into play.  
I had known the value of money for a long time - I had been poor once, after all - but I had always wagered my reputation would make up for it here.  
I could not have been more wrong.

We set up an encampment on the outskirts of town, which soon turned out to be too small. Kvass then offered a large strip of land that belonged to a distant relative of his. Even then, it quickly filled up.  
Just a week after we had got engaged, I stood on top of a hill and watched the busyness of the camp - _my_ camp, with _my_ men for _my_ army. Suddenly, my throne seemed to be almost in reach.

Of course, the engagement could not get over without a celebration. Kvass insisted on inviting everyone who even shared a drop of blood with him; I worried that Loki would find us through that alone.I even started worrying that he was related to Kvass, too. On the other hand, Kvass would surely have renounced any relation to Frost Giants. If there was one thing that the universe shared, it was their hatred for the Jotuns.

In my honour, Kvass forced the musicians to play an Asgardian dance; it was the first time that I even remotely enjoyed myself here. I had not been much of a dancer back in Asgard, but this felt so much like home that it brought tears to my eyes. Both Freyr and Kvass mistook it as happiness; truthfully, it was my loneliness hitting me with all its force.

Before long, Kvass was filled up on mead. He clung to me even more tightly than usual and I regularly had to pry myself away from him. Now that I thought of it, he had been that way even years ago. It was probably time to find solutions for the future; I definitely needed to prevent this kind of behaviour. A no-mead rule seemed to be a good place to start.

"I," he slurred. "Have a present for you."

Indeed, a scruffy looking man appeared right behind Kvass, carrying an intricately painted horn. My eyebrows pulled together as the man held it up to me.  
He was distracting; his appearance was more intriguing than the gift. He had dark hair and light skin that was tinted slightly yellow as if by fatigue - it might have been his eyes, though, that had a definite yellow colour, that made this impression.

"A horn," I said.

"Our field is very big," Kvass grinned.

I raised an eyebrow and the poor carrier had to jump in with an explanation. "Any military leader needs one, milady," he said. "To sound the charge, quite literally."

He sounded like he thought this was a terrible present, which happened to be my opinion, exactly. I cracked a smile, then, and the man ducked his head, probably to hide his own.

"You bring it to her rooms," Kvass suddenly cut in. His voice had become tight and loud and his face contorted with inexplicable anger - or maybe jealousy.

My stomach churned. Everything so far I had tolerated, but now I wanted to punch Kvass in the face. Unfortunately, that was out of question, so I had to instead raise my chin and say pointedly, "I'll show him the way."

Kvass' face fell, but I pushed the man between his shoulder blades in the right direction and left Kvass behind before he could protest.  
The man kept on carrying the horn and did not look at me again.

"Is he always that horrid?" I asked.

The man swallowed hard. "I couldn't say," he said.

"Can't, or won't?" I asked.

He did not answer and I huffed. That had told me enough. "I hope he at least pays well," I said.

The man stopped dead in his tracks and it took me a few steps before I realized that I had lost my company. I turned around and found him staring at me - his yellow eyes had curiously narrowed.

"He doesn't pay," the man said. "I've never been paid and will never be paid. All I hope for is freedom, one day."

It was my turn to stare. That sounded - well that sounded exactly like slavery, which could not be true. Or could it? The king had never mentioned anything like this and I had never, ever seen anything like this. Vanaheim did not seem like a place where slavery existed. Indeed, until this very moment, I would have sworn that no such thing existed in all of the Nine Realms.

But here this man stood with the horn that my fiancé had given me in his hand and seemed to be baffled by my words. My stomach turned.  
I walked back and took the horn from him. The thought of having him carry anything for me had become unbearable.

"I am sorry," I told him. "Take the night off. I won't tell."

His head tilted to the side. His eyes travelled from my face to the horn in my hands and then back up again. "Why?"

Because for now, it was the only thing I could do. Because if I did not, I might actually punch Kvass tonight - or worse. "You've earned it," I said instead.

It might have been my late father's influence or just common sense, but I did not consider it wise to talk politics before I knew what I was going to do. It was planning first and sharing second.  
Right now, everything inside me was in too much uproar to even do the first thing right. If it had been up to me, things would have been changed at this very second.  
"Thank you, milady," the man said and bowed his head. "You are very generous."

I shook my head. I was not being generous yet; indeed, I should have known about this a long time ago and rectified it.  
I watched the man turn the next corner while my fingers gripped even more tightly at Kvass' present. With just a spark of my magic, the horn crumbled as dust to the floor.

I did not go back to the feast. Kvass might miss me or he would not - perhaps he had drunken himself into oblivion by now and would not even realise that I had disappeared. Already, this marriage turned out to be even less than I had expected.  
My hope had been that I could close the door to my rooms behind me and not have to see anyone else today. As per usual, I did not have that kind of luck.

By the normally so quiet stream stood Heimdall, imposing and majestic as he was; it seemed that the room was much smaller with him in it.  
I stopped dead in the doorway. Heimdall did not turn to face me, but he saw me anyway.

"I'm surprised to see you here," I said.  
My throat was dry. Heimdall here could not possibly be good news - I tried to reach out for Loki, to find if he was triumphant or scared; could it be that he had finally made himself known to all of Asgard?

"I have news," he said. My stomach sank. "From Midgard."

That was different. Midgard was the last place I had expected to hear from; surely Loki would not go anywhere close to our brother. It was the very reason that I had not gone to Midgard.

"Your friend Stark has called out to you," Heimdall continued. "Though I don't think it was in earnest. He likes to jest."

"That he does," I said.

Tony Stark was a friend from years ago. I had met him during my exile in Midgard and even when he had fought my brother, he had earned my trust and my respect - which was weird, because Tony Stark did not have a lot of respect for anyone; or maybe he did, but just did not know how to express it.

"Did he need patching up?" I asked.  
The last time we had seen each other, I had offered to patch him up - again - if he ever needed it. I had been more or less serious; and a call for mere medical help would have probably been taken as an affront. Now that I heard his name again, though, I felt that it would be awfully nice to talk to Tony Stark for five minutes.

"No," he said. "But his friend the soldier might have."

"Steve Rogers?" I asked and then shook my head. In contrast to Tony Stark, Steve Rogers was not a particular friend of mine - we had no quarrel, but he was stuck-up and honour driven and it got tiring very fast.  
"Why are you telling me about Steve Rogers?"

Heimdall's eyes narrowed at me, but it still seemed like he was seeing something else. Which he probably did. It still struck me as rude.

"S.H.I.E.L.D has fallen," Heimdall said.

"I - what?"  
This was getting out of hand. By now, Heimdall had told me the beginnings to three different stories and he had not finished even one of them.

"S.H.I.E.L.D is gone," he repeated. "It has been broken down from within."

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you telling me there's been a coup-d'état?"

Heimdall took my question as a lot more serious than I had intended. "So to speak."

I cocked my head to the side. "So," I asked. "Is Tony hurt?"  
Maybe we could finally make a whole out of all these stories.

"No."

"And Steve?"

"He'll be fine."

I nodded. "So, you've come here," I summarized. "To tell me that no one I care about is hurt, but some weird, intrusive government agencies has collapsed? Anything else I need to know? Did Sigyn buy a new hairbrush?"

Heimdall's lips twitched, but I could not find much amusement in it. My eyes were burning with tiredness, my my mind was still spinning from all that I had learnt today and the muscles in my back were getting more and more tense.  
I only wanted to lock my door behind me and fall into bed. Here Heimdall was, bothering me about things that I did not need to know.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked. "And if there's no reason can we maybe not talk today?"

For once, it seemed that Heimdall saw me, and only me. "I am telling you," he said. "Because you are Queen of All the Nine Realms and I assumed you would be interested."

My stomach turned. He was right, of course. I should be interested - I should be worried about my subjects, my friends, my realms. Midgard was just as much one of them as Asgard or Vanaheim was and S.H.I.E.L.D. had been our ally there.  
I was starting to get a headache now.

"I'm busy," I said. "I'm getting my army. Then I'll march on Asgard. And once I've taken my throne back, I'll care for Midgard and its pesky bureaucracy."

"I've seen you are busy," Heimdall said. "As queen, viewing the whole picture is important."

My hands curled into fists. Anger suddenly bristled inside me. He wanted me to a be a queen, he could have a queen. "As queen, I also know how to focus. I would do that better if you left me."

Heimdall straightened up. His eyes were burning through me.  
I squared my shoulders - even then, I felt that this might be uncalled for, but I could not help myself. I had had a horrible couple of days. I did not need him to lecture me about not being a queen properly, when there was not even a throne for me to sit on.

"And please do announce your visits in the future," I added. "We wouldn't want King Freyr to barge in on us."

He inclined his head. "Yes, milady."

His form began to flicker before my eyes. He was not truly here; I should have known. Maybe it was silly to assume that he was anywhere but in my mind.  
Heimdall had almost disappeared before I brought myself to add something else. "And please do watch over Midgard for me. I'm sure Thor would be inclined to help if things got dire."

"Yes, milady," he said again and sounded much softer this time.

Then he was gone and I let out a deep sigh. By now, I had a pounding headache. My body fell heavily on the bed and I did not bother to undress.  
Was this what being the queen felt like? Because if it was, I was not too sure that I wanted to do it anymore.

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	6. See I'm Smiling

**Yeah, yeah, I know, it's been a while again - I hope you all started 2018 in the best possible way!**

 **Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and most of all to those who reviewed! It's appreciated :)**

* * *

 **See I'm Smiling**

* * *

It was the last night that I slept in a proper bed and I did not make good use of it. If I had known how things would go on, I maybe would have put in more effort at getting a good night's sleep. As it was, I tossed and turned all night and barely closed my eyes for even an hour.  
There was too much on my mind: my war, my marriage, my stupid fiancé; that newly discovered slavery issue; S.H.I.E.L.D, and Heimdall's warning to keep in mind the duties of a queen.

I had never really thought about whether I would be good at being queen. My goal was only to be what my mother would have wanted me to be; I had not yet considered if I was actually going to be able to do it.  
Loki, after barely half a year, already had dark rings under his eyes; if the crown wore _him_ down, why would it treat me any better?  
There was, of course, no other way. We did not have a father to rest our burdens on anymore and I could not leave the Nine Realms and their citizens in Loki's hands.

Kvass and I packed our things and made for the encampment that next day. He had strolled into my rooms while I was still sorting through my things - which were not a lot, because I had singularly acquired them here in Vanaheim - and had his various suitcases carried by servants.  
I did not ask if those were enslaved, too; the plan on how to approach this was still not definite.

"You look like Hel," he told me.

"Thank you," I said.

His eyebrows pulled tightly together. "That wasn't a compliment."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I haven't slept," I told him. "There's a lot on my mind."

Kvass chuckled. "Well, you don't need to worry yourself," he said. "I'll do all of the worrying for you."

Leaving the worrying to Kvass worried me even more. Kvass had always been the type to pretend that he was very knowledgeable, meanwhile not knowing anything at all.  
Indeed, he started giving me a talk about going to sleep and dream analysis that I was sure was not based on fact. Indeed, he recommended me not going to sleep if I felt that I could not - 'and if it takes three days, darling, well then, that's what it takes.'  
After three days without sleep, I would probably murder him.

The soldiers greeted us with utter disregard. They were busy, practicing their fighting skills - of which I knew nothing - or doing the things that soldiers did when they got bored; all I knew was that things got very loud and very smelly.  
It did not offend me as much as it offended Kvass - he had clearly expected a hero's welcome, though he had done nothing to earn such a thing.

Hogun met us when we were halfway through the camp. He had stayed here these past few days to evaluate the warriors and organize the training.

"Your tents are prepared," he greeted quickly. "They've been set up this morning."

"Perfect," I said.

"About time," Kvass said.

Hogun's expression did not change, but I could have punched Kvass for the hundredth time that day.

"And the men?" I asked to play off the embarrassment.

Hogun's eyebrows rose slightly. "A few of them are very good," he said. "Most are mediocre. Some are terrifyingly inept."

My jaw clenched for a moment. "Send them home," I ordered. "We stand a better chance with quality than we do with quantity."

Hogun bowed his head at once, but Kvass started to sputter. He put his hands on his hips and very pointedly shook his head.

"I'm sorry?" I said.

"It should be an honour for them to die for their ki- their queen."

I had not missed his slip-up, but I chose to ignore it: there were more important things to address. "Not if their queen leads them like a lamb to the slaughter."

"Maybe we do need lambs!" Kvass said. His eyes were gleaming madly. "To hold your brother's troops off!"

With a slight sigh, I turned to Hogun. "Well?"

He cleared his throat. "The Einherjar would cut through them like a knife through butter."

I nodded factually, but Kvass was still opening and closing his mouth as if he could not believe what was happening. "Send them away," I told Hogun again.

Hogun hurried away as fast as he could. I could not take it bad on him: the atmosphere between me and Kvass was absolutely murderous.  
He rounded on me the moment everyone else was out of earshot. Even the look on his face made my anger flare up; it felt like it was burning my insides.

"You disrespect me!" he pressed out.

I almost laughed. "Disrespect _you_?" I repeated. "Which one of us is heir to the throne and which one dissented?"

Kvass pursed his lips; then he turned sharply on his heel and stomped away. I shook my head at the sight. Kvass had seemed so sensible when he had proposed, and now he was deteriorating before my very eyes.  
I wondered if he was a talented actor or if he had had a light moment back then. Or maybe he was completely sane and just happened to be an arsehole.

I could see what Hogun had meant about the men soon. A walk through the encampment showed that most were rather sloppy both in their order as in their fighting.  
The few encampments I had seen so far had been inhabited exclusively by Einherjar and been kept impeccably clean; though I supposed they also cleaned up when the princess came to visit. Either way, there had been a firm discipline that could almost be tasted.

There was none of that here: I saw more dirty laundry that I had ever cared to see, had to be careful not to step into food scraps.  
The more I walked, the longer my list of changes grew - it even started to have categories: sort-out-immediately, within-the-week, and I-can-live-with-it-maybe-if-I-absolutely-have-to.

It took about three hours until I could not take it anymore. A short burst of magic took me to the cliff above the camp. From up there, things did not look that bad.  
It was not as much the dirt that bothered me as what it represented. My men could be dirty when they marched on Asgard, but they could not be unruly.

The pull came when I lay in bed that night. I was tossing and turning between images of Kvass' pout and Hogun's words echoing in my mind. Then I felt it; that inexplicable longing, that feeling as if the soul stretched and yet could not reach what it was aiming for.

I took a deep breath and tried to quench it. Seeing Loki was the last thing I wanted to do right now. I might have wanted to rant and rage, to complain or even find solutions - but I could not talk to Loki about any of that, even though he would likely have been able to offer some insight if thing had been different.  
I never despised our falling out more than in situations like this, because they made me long for a Loki that was not there anymore.

The pull would not stop.  
I groaned and pushed my pillow over my head. Could he not give up? He had to know that I did not want to talk to him right now.  
What was he calling me for, anyway? He did not usually do that; indeed, he always acted like I was a bother when I visited him. I had not been there for weeks for precisely that reason.

He would not stop.  
I threw my blanket off and huffed loudly. It was no use. If I knew anything about Loki, it was that he did not give up once he had put his mind to something.  
I closed my eyes and allowed him to call me to himself. It was as if a tightly stretched rubber band was released and I shot across the universe to meet him. Metaphorically, of course, because my body did not move an inch.

He was in a cave. The first thing I heard was the dripping of water from the walls; then his footsteps interrupted the sound. Loki was wrapped into a thick mantle. He was even paler than when I had last seen him and looked as if he had not slept for days. My stomach sank. I should have come sooner, of my own accord.

"I don't want to see you again," he said.

I raised an eyebrow. "That's ironic," I said. "Because it seems you've woken me up just to see me."

"To tell you," he corrected me. "This needs to stop. I don't want you spying on me, gathering information-"

"What?" I said. "What are you talking about, gathering information? I know nothing of what happens in Asgard! I wish I did, but there's nothing. I just know that you look terrible-"

"Don't lie." His voice was hard and felt like a slap to the face.

I recoiled. "I don't lie to you," I said. "Don't insult me."

His eyes narrowed at me. "You confer with Heimdall. I know it."

"We talk _on occasion_ ," I told him. It did not even occur to me to deny it; not to mention that Loki usually had an impeccable sense of what was lie and what was not, even though he was slightly off today. "And it wasn't about Asgard."

His chin rose. "I have removed him from his post."

I shook my head at him. "Even if he talks to me," I said. "Is there anyone better suited to be gatekeeper? You'd be a fool to let him go."

"Then so I am!"

I flinched. In the cave, Loki's shout echoed several times over and it seemed to fill out every corner of the place until there was nothing left but his anger.  
For once, I was glad that I was not truly with him; we had physically fought but once and it had been enough to last me a lifetime. Either way, there was no winning - for either of us.

"Have you killed him, too?" I asked once his words stopped ringing in my ears. "Like our father?"

Loki's face fell. For a moment, he almost looked pained. I could not be sure - I had long since stopped trying to figure out the small twitches of his face; and I had not needed to. Back in the day, our connection had answered any question I might have had. Now, I was lost.

As always, Loki caught himself quickly. His features smoothed out and he even shrugged nonchalantly. "Unfortunately not."

It stung just a little bit. For one, because his response had been predictable. Also because I knew that he had hated our father and I had, as well. The fact that he was dead was not the painful part; that Loki would kill him after all, was.

"Well, I doubt you would have been able to."

My jab did not hit as I had intended. Indeed, it was answered with a broad grin. "I don't want to see you again."

I nodded. "You've said." My eyes wandered across his frame. I remembered him taller. "So I suppose this is goodbye."

Loki squared his shoulders. "Forever," he said.

I cracked a smile at that. "You wish."

He scoffed. "Right," he said. "Because you'll march on Asgard... I want to see you to do it without your trusted gatekeeper."

"Actually," I said. "I meant that I don't think we'll ever keep apart. But have it your way."

His expression twisted into an ugly sneer. "If I see you again," he said. "It'll only be to put you in prison."

I had no doubts that he meant it. Not truly, of course, not emotionally - Loki did not hate me as much as I did not hate him. But he would do it. If only to prove to himself that he did not care.

I slept late the next morning, which was no surprise since I had been awake for so long - even after I had left Loki, sleep had not come easily.  
Which again, was not a surprise. Once I had left him, the despair had hit me. He did not want to see me again. Preferably ever. My whole body ached at the thought.

The good news was that the encampment looked a good deal cleaner when I stepped outside. I could not believe the change; where I had waded through garbage the other day, I now walked on empty and swept paths.

I found soon why this had happened: Kvass had set up a small stage in the middle of the camp and was shouting orders from the top of it.  
Only I barely saw anyone in uniform following his orders: it was mostly very raggedy looking men and women who scuttled around busily. Among them was the young man who had delivered Kvass' present the other day.

My stomach turned. So he had brought his slaves here, too. I did not want any slaves working for me, ever, but I mostly did not want them to work for me here. I felt that cleaning up their camp should well be done by the soldiers themselves.  
Besides, what kind of queen was I if I allowed a part of my people to be treated like this?

"I am sorry," I called up to Kvass, who stirred and then grinned broadly down to me. "What is happening here?"

Kvass was absolutely delighted with himself. "Why, we are cleaning up!"

I nodded. "And why aren't the soldiers cleaning up?"

"Because what else do you have slaves for?" he shouted back.

"Funny," I said. "I've been wondering that very thing."

His brow furrowed. He looked around as if he thought he was being tricked and the climbed the few steps down from his little stage.  
"What are you saying?"

I squared my shoulders. "I want you to let them all go."

He laughed. The sound seeped through my skin and into my very bones; I had to stop myself from shivering. "Let them go?" he repeated. "You should go back to sleep. You're talking nonsense."

One of us _was_ talking nonsense, I figured. It just was not me; and if he did not want to let them go voluntarily - well, then I would have to force him to.

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	7. The Sword and the Shield

**Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alered and most of all to those who reviewed - some replies at the end of this chapter! I hope y'all enjoy this new one :)**

* * *

 **The Sword and the Shield**

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The next day, I decided that I would need to learn how to fight. What kind of general could not wield a sword of his own? I was tired of being told that I was not a warrior.  
Besides, the need to run Kvass through with a sword was getting stronger by the minute and I wanted to be able to when I finally decided to do it.  
Of course, I thought it better not to actually kill him, but it was nice to have options and the thought alleviated some of my anger.

If Hogun was surprised at my request, he did not show it. He just bowed slightly and disappeared immediately, only to return promptly with a very light, very slender blade.  
I soon learnt why: even that tiny thing was difficult to hold. I felt the strain in my arms and back; it crept up my neck and by the end of the session, I felt it even in my legs.

Hogun barely taught me anything that first day: all I knew by the end was how to hold the sword and maybe even that I should better swing it with both hands because I could not keep it up any other way.

Maybe I _really_ was not a warrior.

Though no one could blame me for not having any strength in my arms - it was a bit of a miracle that I had been even allowed to carry my own books back in the day.

The next day, I learnt how to swing it; mostly at shadows, though I made contact with my target as long as it did not move.  
Which was no good, because any foe would certainly move and not just stand there while I attempted to swing at them.

"You're not that bad," Hogun assured me at the first signs of frustration. "It takes time to achieve excellency, as it does with any skill-"

"I don't need excellency," I said. "For now, I just need to not be killed in the first five seconds."

He scratched his head. "You'll get there."

I was definitely not a warrior.

On the third day, I cheated.  
That is, if you called using a little magic cheating. Personally, I had always argued that magic was a weapon like any other, but the rest of Asgard had always disagreed with me. Hogun did, too.

He was not very happy when an extra boost of magic allowed me to hit him for the first time; he was even unhappier when multiple illusions made it impossible for him to hit back - the real me plucked the weapon out of his hand without trouble.  
While I felt like a warrior, after all, he stomped over to his sword and picked it up without a single glance in my direction.

I disliked this passive aggression more than any outright critique.

"Out with it, then," I said.

He huffed. I understood now how Loki must have felt all those years: they could not stand that he bested them and claimed that instead of jealousy, this was distaste for his dirty tricks.

"No, please," I said. "I want to hear it."

Hogun squared his shoulders. "This is not the way to fight," he said.

"Well, I won, didn't I?"  
Another quick boost of magic allowed me to twirl my blade like I had seen both him and other warriors do - Sif was especially prone to such displays.

"That is not all that matters," he said.

I raised an eyebrow. "So you'd rather your queen die than use a strategy that you don't approve of."

His mouth opened, but nothing came out. Truth was, I probably had hit the nail on the head, but he would not say so. How would anyone say that he would rather see someone else dead? The look on his face told the truth.

The next few days, Hogun claimed to be too busy overseeing the soldiers to train with me.

Fortunately, they were a lot better at sword fighting than I was. They were also good at horseback riding, archery and handling the cannons - for the first time, this looked like an actual army.

The discipline was still lacking, though. The knowledge that there were slaves to clean up everything had spread more quickly than a bad infection; and it did nobody any good. No one cleaned up after themselves anymore and I regularly saw those poor enslaved people carry more trash than seemed feasible. I rarely saw any of their faces and it made my stomach turn - even without the smell.

"I want them to clean up for themselves," I told Hogun. "I don't care what anyone else says, make the time and give the commands, I need order around here."

"There is order around here," he said. "Everything is clean - if I may say so, since we do have the people to do it-"

"We're not abusing others to keep this place clean," I interrupted. "I think I have made my opinion clear on that."

For Hogun, I had been clear enough. Albeit grudgingly, he gave the orders that I had asked for.  
It was not enough for Kvass. He stormed into my tent that very afternoon, his face already red with anger and sweat pearling on his forehead. He looked like a madman.

"What do you think you're doing?"  
He was yelling, but he mostly sounded out of breath. It was not all that scary; not when you had heard a scary yell before - and I had faced the Hulk.  
It was mostly very annoying.

"Right now?" I asked lightly. "I am writing about our current progress to King Freyr. He has been asking for updates, remember?"

"Why are our soldiers picking up the trash?"  
He pointed to the entrance of the tent as if I was about to run out and check if his story was true.

" _My_ soldiers," I said and put down the pen. "Are doing as they're told."

"But _why_?" Kvass whined and let himself drop into an armchair by my desk.

I shrugged. "There need be order in this camp. They need to pick up their trash, make their beds, polish their boots," I explained. His frown deepened with every word. "They lack discipline. Hopefully we will establish some like this."

He shook his head at me. "We have talked about this-"

"No," I said. "You have talked about this. I told you to set the slaves free, you didn't want to. Now I am telling you - there is no work for them here. I don't want them to work here. And when we marry, I'm not letting any of them serve me."

Kvass looked as if he had seen a ghost. "You're out of your mind-"

"Quite the contrary," I said. "Now if you'll excuse me."

Kvass sputtered, but he did not get an entire sentence out. I doubted that this was the end of the issue, but for now, it was a victory. I had not yet pulled out all the stops - experience told me that you could not draw all your weapons at once.

I had to train on my own for the next few days. Hogun had too much to do enforcing the new rules, arguing with Kvass all the way - besides, he was still angry with me about the "cheating" from the other day. There was no way to know which of these weighed stronger.

So I swung by myself, trying to build strength in my arms and back, trying to make my feet quicker and my stance more secure.

My preferred time was just after midnight, when the camp had quieted down and only a few guards still wandered around. The silence allowed me to think and it gave me piece of mind knowing that no one was watching me.  
That was, until someone _was_ watching me.

It was Kvass' slave from the night that I had first learnt about them: the one who had carried the horn and had explained his plight to me. My stomach twisted when I realized that I had never asked for his name.  
Now, he stood at the edge of the training grounds and was watching me like a hawk: no move was lost on him.

After about ten minutes of him staring and me pretending that I did not notice, I could not take it anymore. My skin was prickling and the twisting of my stomach did not let up.  
I let my sword unceremoniously drop onto the grass and turned to face him.

"Anything you wanted?"

He flinched. He tried to shuffle back into the shadows, but I held him up with another call. His gaze dropped to the floor when I approached him.

"Are you any good with a sword?" I asked.

He shook his head no, but the movement was barely there. "No, mistress."

" _Milady_ ," I corrected. "I'm mistress to no one." He bowed his head again. It made my heart sink. "It's a shame. I need a teacher and my original one has abandoned me."

He quickly glanced up at me. "Your teacher is telling the shapeshifters they have no work, anymore."

So he knew about Hogun's teaching, too. I wondered how closely he had been watching me until now - but there was something more important to address.  
My eyes narrowed at him. "The shapeshifters?" I asked.

His eyes lit up at that. "My people," he said. "We have... we used to have the ability to change our form as we pleased. To become magnificent beasts or human as you and I." He stopped for a moment, as if the words had caught in his throat. "Until they took it away from us."

My eyes suddenly burned with unshed tears. I knew how that felt - to have it one day and be robbed of it the next; to not feel the power any more, the power that formed such an existential part of yourself. Odin had done it to me once - I could not imagine doing such a thing to a whole people.  
They took it away from them. I knew exactly what that meant.

"I see," I said. "And then they enslaved you."

He perked up. "So we will get it back," he said. "A thousand years, and we will get it back."

A thousand years? That was insane. They could have just said that they were never going to give it back - but there was this tribe of desperate, gullible people who had no other choice but to believe that eventually, things would get better again.  
Anger welled up inside me. The more I learnt about this, the more I felt that this was the most unjust thing I had ever come across -and I had come across quite a few unjust things.

"I am sorry," I told him.

"If we don't have work," he said. "How can we earn our freedom?"

I shook my head. "There's nothing to earn," I said. "And I plan to make that clear very soon."

He cocked his head to the side. "That sounds dangerous," he said, very slowly as if he weighed his words before he spoke them.

My chin rose. "Let that be my worry."

For the first time, he actually met my gaze. "Why would you do this for us?" he asked.

"Because I am Queen of all the Nine Realms and everyone within them. You are my people as much as the Vanir are, as much as the Asgardians are."  
Well, maybe not as much as the Asgardians. But that was not quite the point.  
"And I can't stand it when my people are being treated unjustly."

He stood still for a moment, staring at me in quiet astonishment. Honestly, I was a bit astonished myself. The thing was, I wanted to lead this army for my own personal gain: this all was about my throne and my revenge on Loki.  
Since I had heard about the fate of these people, there was a different drive inside me. It was not entirely selfish anymore; it had a bigger purpose. It felt a lot better like this.

"I have to thank you," he said. "No one worried about us before."

I inclined my head. There was not much else to say, anymore. I could not make any promises yet and I did not know how to free them; but they need not worry about that. It was my business how to do it - they need only know it when I had found a solution.

"I never asked you your name," I said.

His eyes widened slightly. "Fenrir, milady," he said. "At your service."

* * *

 **If you'd leave me a review, I'd be very happy :)**

 **Replies:**

 **Natasha - I know it's more drama than romance right now - though, in my defense, there's no romance to build anymore, and I don't really see why Eirlys would be lovey-dovey with Loki at this point ;) But the romane isn't quite dead, yet, I promise :)**

 **Guest (1) - I kinda miss Thor, too, but he's busy right now fighting Ultron, so he can't be with us yet. This story won't end without him, though, so no worries :)**

 **Guest (3) - It's Loki!? He's not the nicest of people ;)**


	8. Climbing Uphill

**Guys, I am so sorry that it took me so long to update - and unfortunately, it's also going to take a while until the next chapter will be out. See, I'm in law school and I'm taking my final exams (or at least, my first shot at the final exam) in two weeks. I have neither the time nor the energy to write or edit, or really do much of anything except study and sleep ;) It's a bit of a wonder that I'm updating today.  
**

 **So, I'll not update, realistically speaking, until the end of March or beginning of April - but I swear, I'm not abandoning this story, it is going to continue and eventually be finished, I just need this break; honestly, I've been worrying about updating for the past weeks and it's been stressful, so I'm glad I got to do this! And after the exam, I'll have the time and the motivation and the story will be much better for it (I hope ;) ).**

 **I'll stop rambling now. Thank you guys for your patience, and I'll see you after this madness is over! Enjoy the new chapter :)**

* * *

 **Climbing Uphill**

* * *

Kvass barely left my side the days after. Perhaps he had seen Fenrir following me before, because the man and I had no chance to talk again. Indeed, I barely had the chance to talk to anyone.

Kvass even took it upon himself to handle my sword fighting lessons. At first, I was thrilled, because fighting shadows was not nearly as effective as fighting an actual person. It soon turned out, though, that Kvass knew as little about swordfighting as he did about most things. It was all pretend without any substance.  
The good thing about it was that he did not notice when I "cheated". Which I did vigourously. Where with Hogun, I might have had some reservations about playing tricks on him, I did not have the same qualms about Kvass. If he landed in the dirt, all the better; if his sword somehow got stuck in the ground and he could not get it out, I relished in it.

It was wrong, perhaps, to treat him like this, but I could not help myself. Besides, he was definitely asking for it. Wherever he went, he bossed everyone around. No soldier who crossed his path could go unbothered about his day; he found a job for everyone, even those who already had one.  
The shapeshifters crossing his path got it even worse. It did not take long and he asked them to kneel whenever they saw us. I protested every single time, but it was no use: they were more afraid of him than of me and therefore followed his orders.

"I don't get why they can't just be on their way," I said. "Aren't you insisting that you need their work?"

He raised an eyebrow - which was a very elegant gesture in some people, but looked very strained on Kvass. "You gave them ideas," he explained haughtily. "We have to remind them of their place."

"I don't think they can ever forget," I said so quietly that he could pretend not to have heard.

In that very moment, a woman of about forty, her little children following close behind, had to drop herself in the dirt. "The small ones, too," Kvass ordered.

Which was entirely too much for me. "No," I interrupted, perhaps a little too loudly, because the children flinched and the mother pressed herself a little closer to the ground.  
"Not the kids," I ordered and, when neither of them moved, added, "On your way!"

They hurried away as quickly as they could and I had to live with the bitter taste in my mouth left by the idea that they were scared of me, too.  
Kvass breathed a deep sigh and linked his hands behind his back. He had an air of utter content.

"You're too soft," he told me. "Those kids will grow one day and we'll be happy for their obedience."

" _You_ will be happy," I corrected. "Don't rope me in with this mess."

He had the nerve to actually laugh at me. "You're going to be a terrible queen if you don't learn to be a little harder."

"I don't want to be that kind of queen," I said and wondered if Odin had been that kind of king - at the very least, I had never heard of the enslavement of an entire people before, so he might not have known; on the other hand, he had once stolen the power source and the heir of an entire realm and had been surprised when they got a little grumpy.

"Well," Kvass said. "It's lucky you have me then."

It might have been that very moment that I decided that Kvass could never sit on any throne, anywhere. Certainly not on Asgard's. I was trying to make the Nine Realms better, not worse.

Since I had yet to make a plan on how to get rid of Kvass, I was more than happy to accept King Freyr's invitation the next week. He threw some kind of banquet for some kind of anniversary that I did not care for - but I jumped at the chance to get away. Besides, I hoped that after a few glasses of wine (or maybe even mead, if he was in an especially good mood), Freyr might be willing to listen to my complaints.

Kvass first attempted to come with me, but he was obviously not invited and easily convinced when I told him that he was needed in the camp. He allowed me to take some of the shapeshifters along, too; the giddiness in his voice suggested that he thought to have me finally convinced.

Truthfully, I had taken Fenrir for more information and other than that only such people that looked especially worn out. They could not believe their luck when I told them to just make their bed in my rooms and relax.  
Fenrir watched with his arms crossed in front of his chest; he did not touch any of the food that I had delivered for them.

"Don't tell me you're not hungry," I said.

"Forgive me," he said. "But I don't trust your food."

"My food?" I repeated. "Have I given you any reason not to trust me?"

"No, milady," he said. "I trust you. But I do not trust the king."

One of the others behind me gasped loudly. This was not a thing you said about a king, no matter where; I could only imagine what saying things like this meant for a slave.

"Give me some of that - just a bite, I'll be your taster." With a shaking hand, one woman handed me a piece of honey bread. "There," I told Fenrir after I had swallowed it. "Can you eat now?"

He could. He tried to pretend, but he soon was gulping down the food as if he had not eaten in a week. I did not ask if that was true; I was too afraid of the answer I might get.

With that thought, watching them eat became unbearable. I had so far payed a lot of thought to their freedom, but should have thought about their physical needs first.  
Since I could not change that now - though it would be first thing when I got back to camp and Kvass better watch out - it had to be their freedom again.

As always when I was in doubt, my path led me to the library. Since the Vanir had enslaved the shapeshifters, there had to be some record of it; and if I was even a little bit lucky, they would have written down how they had done it in the first place. And if I knew how they had done - I could undo it.

The palace's library was vast and beautiful. It, too, was built into the woods; the shelves were carved into the trees and the sections were separated by small streams of gurgling water.  
In comparison to Asgard's library, it was petty and small.

My heart ached for home once again. There had been nothing that you could not find in Asgard's library - provided that you had the patience to really search for it.  
It was the sole plus of Vanaheim's bookshelf that the librarian knew exactly what you could find, and where. At my request to read about the history of slavery, she pointed me squarely to a section named 'social studies'.

Some books, to my pleasant surprise, were flaming manifestos against slavery, and urged for freedom, the sooner the better. Most talked about the economic need for cheap work. Every few of them claimed that it was better for the shapeshifters, anyway.  
I could have puked all over them.

Once, it seemed, the shapeshifters had come from far away - no one could quite remember wherefrom. All everyone remembered was that they had suddenly been there and that their powers had never been seen before - and everyone agreed it had been a great solution to bind them, else they become a danger.  
I could almost feel it now: the fear, the mistrust - the relief, when there was a solution, no matter what it meant to those other people.

"How very dull."

On instinct, I slammed my book shut. It was a little bit ridiculous; I could not remember how many times I had been reading things I should not have been reading - but who was to tell me, here, what I should or should not know?  
Definitely not King Freyr, who was standing in front of my table now and smiling broadly.

"Not at all," I said.

He shook his head at me, still smiling. "It is a beautiful day out, and I find you in the darkest corner of the library."

I did not bother to tell him that my entire childhood had been spent in the darkest corner of the library and I was glad of it. "One has to set priorities."

Before I knew it, he had grabbed the book I had just closed. The smile drained off his face and was replaced by a frown. "The Roots of the Shapeshifters?" he read. "Why would you worry about that?"

It was now or never - I had hoped to be a little more delicate about it, but the option of waiting had just expired. So I chose bluntness instead.  
"There are quite a few in my camp," I responded. "And I resent their condition."

His eyebrows shot up. "Their condition?" he repeated.

"Yes. I hate to see them in chains - none of my people ought to be slaved."

His mouth was about to drop open, I could feel it. Which was satisfying in a way, but also did not bode well for my request. What was it with all those people being surprised at my outrage? Why were they not outraged? How could anybody look at this situations, read these books, see these people and then turn away?

"Your people - they are not - they are...well, they are no ones people really, and I-"

"They _are_ my people," I said. "I am Queen of all the Nine Realms and everyone within them is _my_ people."

He swallowed hard and put the book down again. I reached out and pulled it back to me; if there was one thing that you had to protect, it was knowledge.

"So," he asked. "What are you saying?"

I raised my chin and tried to imagine that I was not sitting on a wobbly chair in a library, but on my throne. "I want them set free."

Freyr had to steady himself by grabbing the edge of the table. "That's impossible."

"Impossible?" I said. "Or just unwanted?"

I had hit the nail on the hit, of course. Freeing the slaves meant admitting that they had once done something wrong, and no one wanted to do that. Especially not when it was so very practical to have them, not when there were people claiming it was all for the better.

"It can't be done," Freyr said.

"We'll see."

His jaw clenched. "I never wanted to say this," he said and his voice sounded tightly strung. "But this is my country. You might call yourself Queen of All the Nine Realms, but you don't sit on a throne. I do. And I say, it will not be done."

If he wanted to play that game, he could have it. I was not Odin's daughter for nothing. I knew how to smile and plot someone's demise in my head - I was also Loki's sister.  
So I did. I inclined my head and muttered my apologies and left the library later with a stack of books that reached over my head.

It took me a day and a night and another day to go through the entire pile. I excused myself from a lengthy dinner by claiming a migraine and had sent the shapeshifters out for walks and errands so that I could study in peace. Besides, I did not want to invoke any hope before I had definite results.

Of course, I had not counted on Fenrir's perceptiveness. While the others had hurried to follow any orders they were given, he had watched me closely. By afternoon of the second day, he did not follow the others as I sent them away and instead stayed and very pointedly cleared his throat.

I looked up and turned another page. He did it again. There was nothing on the next page, either.  
Fenrir finally gathered the courage to speak. "Milady?"

It was not much, but it was too much to ignore anymore. "Yes?" I asked.

"I've seen what you're reading," he said cautiously.

I closed the book but left my finger between the pages. "I haven't found anything."

"No," he said and shook his head.

I had felt myself as Odin's daughter the other day, but I was also Loki's sister. Years of reading even into the tiniest of his gestures and years of him pointing out such signs in others had made me quite apt at it: I knew that Fenrir was about to say something that he did not quite want to come out with.

"Come on," I urged gently. "Before you explode."

"You want to unlock it," he said. "And it'd be glorious - but if you fail, then they might never let us leave after all-"

"They aren't going to let you leave," I said sharply. He did not flinch, but he did square his shoulders. "Ever, and if you served them a million years. You are too profitable."  
I knew it had hurt - I could see it on his face. There was no point clinging to a false hope, though, not when people's lives depended on it.  
"You're right, though," I continued. "We only have one shot at this, so I intend to do it right. So, if there's any knowledge that you would like to share, now would be perfect timing."

He licked his lips. His eyes darted around the room as if he expected someone to burst forth from some hiding place - maybe he was. Who knew how many times this man had been tricked already.

"Well?" I prompted.

He swallowed hard. "You'll be able to break it, if I tell you?" he asked.

"At least I won't be if you don't."

His eyes met mine, and then he slowly started nodding his head.

* * *

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	9. Army of Two

**Hello dear people. It's been longer than I said it would be, but I am back and I hope that there won't be a long break like this again.  
Thanks if you're still sticking with me, and please enjoy this new chapter.**

* * *

 **Army of Two**

* * *

"You have to help me," I implored.

Loki might as well have been deaf. He had shown no reaction to my arrival in his quarters and had since not betrayed a single sign that he had noticed me.  
At any other given time, I would have been upset about his childish antics; pretending like I was invisible or giving substance to the phrase 'you are dead to me' - we had been through all of that in our childhood.

I did not have the time to be upset, though. Granted, I could have taken my time, but then patience was not my strength. Now that I knew what to do, I could not wait. Besides, the Nine Realms were not waiting for me to make up my mind.

"I can't do it without you," I continued. "You're the expert... Loki, please."

He gently knocked his staple of papers on the desk to straighten them out. Tears started burning in my eyes. I could not believe that he was doing this to me - yes, we were fighting, but when were we not? I had counted on him now that I needed him.

"This is our spell, or something like it and they did exactly what you do to me, they cut them all off." The words came out of my mouth faster and faster. "This is why they don't have any power, they just cut the whole source. Now, I don't know how that's possible, but if anyone does, it is you."

Fenrir had explained it to me. He did not now about magical specifics or terminologies, but I knew enough of that for the both of us. Very similar to the way Loki and I had bonded, the shapeshifters had been connected - it was a custom of their people, done that way for generations. Perhaps, I thought, it was with them that our ancient spellbook had got the idea for creating a bond.  
When Kvass' ancestors had discovered them, they had implanted one of their own spellcasters and, once they were in the loop, they had cut their magic off from the inside.

Loki, of course, had never cut me off from my own power. Maybe he could not; maybe it was not even possible, but he could not be that far off when he could separate us at his own will.  
The problem was that I did not know how to do it - he had always kept that knowledge from me, probably afraid that I would use it against him. Which I would have, shamelessly, but now I was ready to swear that I would never do that if it meant freeing the shapeshifters.

"Without you, I can only guess. It might not work. I might hurt myself." I took a step closer to him. "Loki, I can't leave them like this."

His attention was apparently focused on the letter he was holding in his hands; his eyes even moved attentively along the lines.

"This is more important than any feud," I continued. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't that important. I need you."

He gave no sign that he heard me. The tears finally spilled over, then. So he really hated me. I had not believed it, but perhaps I did not know him as well as I thought I did.

"All right," I said and tried to keep my voice steady. "I understand. Just forget that I've been here."

When I came back to, Fenrir was still watching me intently. He tended to stare, anyway, but worry now clouded his gaze. I had never asked anyone what I looked like when I projected, but I figured it had to be bizarre to someone who had never seen magic before.  
His gaze dropped when he noticed that I was focusing again.

Behind him, the rest of my entourage had gathered: Fenrir had insisted that he could not keep something as important as a quest for their freedom from them. Grudgingly, I had agreed.  
My stomach clenched at the sight. I had promised to return with results, with broader knowledge, and with help. Now I had none of those things.

It had been foolish to assume that Loki would help. If there was one trait he shared with our brother, it was his stubbornness. He had decided that he did not want to see me again, and I should have known that he would follow through.

"Have you been sitting here all this time?" I asked and my voice was harsher than I had intended. "There are productive things to be done."

Each of them started muttering their apologies, which made my stomach clench even tighter. There was nothing productive for them to do right now, and even if there was, I did not want to disregard their worry.  
I pushed myself up and moved over to desk. There was nothing even laid down there, because all my documents were back at the camp.

"Milady?" Fenrir asked.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "Yeah?"

"Did you get the information you need?" He took a few steps closer to me. "Is your friend going to help us?"

There was no friend, and the person that was there would clearly not help us.  
My fingers curled tightly into fists. If Loki would not help, then I would bloody well do it on my own. I would not be held back by Loki's petty whims.

"No," I said. "But that's no problem, I can do it on my own. We just have to get back to camp, and then we'll get started. You'll be free before you know it."

"You said you needed this friend's help," Fenrir said.

He actually shrunk away a bit when I turned to face him. "I was wrong," I said.

"Oh," he said. His eyebrows had pulled together in a way that suggested he very much did not believe me.

I nodded at him

"Milady," he said. "I feel that I could help you better if you were honest with me."

I groaned. For a very brief moment, I despised myself: who was I, anyway, to pretend that I was better than Kvass or Freyr, when I, too, treated Fenrir like servants and nothing more?  
He had proven himself to be very helpful until now: loyal, secretive and eager to help. He had trusted my judgment so far and deserved the truth from me as well.  
Besides, there was no better counsel to be had right now.

"My friend," I said. "My brother - we are...we are fighting. I thought that he would help me, anyway, because he loves me and I love him, but..."

"He didn't come through as you hoped," Fenrir finished.

I blinked. That sounded a lot simpler than it felt to me, but I could not come up with an explanation for why it was so complicated to me. "Yes," I said slowly. "Which isn't ideal, because he knows a lot more about these things than I do."

He hesitated for a moment. "But you still have a plan?"

I did not exactly have a plan, I just had a vague idea about how reversing spells worked. "Well," I said. "I figure I can reverse it, I just need to be sure that I'll have the power to do it and I also don't know about specifics - there might be a loophole that I don't know about. A trap... there might be an easier way that isn't as risky, but how would I know if he won't talk to me?"

Fenrir's eyebrows pulled together. Then he looked over his shoulder to his people and then back at me; his feature smoothed out. I wondered how many secrets he had been entrusted with in his day, because some nobleman had not thought that he might betray the trust put in him.  
Maybe he was rather the type that heard things when he passed by.

"Will you be safe?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Either we all go down, or we all win."

Fenrir nodded slowly. "That sounds fair to me."

He said it as if we were partners. It made me feel a lot lighter than before. Perhaps this could still work out, after all.

* * *

In my absence, Kvass had installed himself firmly as the leader of the camp. Behind his back, Hogun kept rolling his eyes, but the regular soldiers seemed to take the situation less lightly. They followed his orders, grumbling all the while, and it was hard to tell the difference between servants and soldiers anymore.  
This was not at all what I had had in mind when I had demanded discipline in the camp. I wanted upright, honest discipline, not fear of the rod. Because apparently, Kvass had not shied away from what he called 'a gentle reminder' - which was really just a beating.

"He told me you gave those orders," Hogun said later when he showed me the new training fields. Those, at least, looked promising.

I huffed. "And you believed him?" I asked.

His face remained completely void of any emotion. "With all due respect," he said. "You've become unpredictable."

One of my hands curled into a tight fist and my heart clenched. "Maybe I should look for generals who can tell my orders from that of others."

Even then, Hogun betrayed no emotion. It might have been that he was just very skilled at portraying numbness; perhaps he genuinely did not care if he had a position here or not.  
I did not care, either - or so I told myself - and my nails dug painfully into the palms of my hands. Let him go back to Loki, if he thought that was better.

"Maybe you should," Hogun said.

There was one obvious problem, though, and it was not as easily solved as sending one person back to Asgard. All these soldiers were Vanir, paid with Vanir money - if I freed the shapeshifters, I might as well find myself at odds with King Freyr; how would I convince any of those people to follow me instead of the king they had followed all their lives?

That concern did not change my conviction, though. Before I had gone to Loki, I had made one decision: that it was more important to help these people than to get my throne. We would see to that afterwards.

A scream echoed through the camp. It was loud and shrill, as if it was the cry of a tortured animal; it rung so painfully that it even made Hogun flinch.  
It took about twenty seconds after the cry had expired that another sounded; and then one of the shapeshifters that I had taken with me to court, an old, frail lady, came running as fast as her tired legs could carry her. Before she caught her breath to speak, yet another cry sounded.

"Fenrir!" was the only thing she could get out.

I did not run; I did not even teleport. Instead, I walked as calmly as I could - I wanted Kvass to see me coming.  
He did. The whip, already raised above his head, froze in its path - and Fenrir, who lay on the ground below, shivering and bleeding, managed to raise his head to see me coming as well.

The crowd around the scene parted and allowed me to step through. Vengeful magic was tickling in my fingertips, but I could still conceal it.  
Kvass, who was usually not very perceptive, obviously read my mood and let the whip drop to the ground. It landed right by Fenrir's head and just barely missed him.

"He scratched me," Kvass spat out. "The little rat-"

"Enough," I interrupted. I did not need to know what had occurred and I did not care for any explanation. The magic was buzzing inside me now, waiting to be released; I wondered if Loki could feel my mood right now and if it suited him.  
"Someone get this man to a healer."  
Two soldier rushed forward and hoisted Fenrir up under his shoulders. Groaning and swaying, he came to his feet.

"Milady," he whispered when they all but dragged him past me. "I didn't get it."

"All the better," I said.

There was only one reason for Fenrir, who was usually so collected, to draw blood - and I wished he had not tried to do it for me. If the curse on the shapeshifters had indeed been put on them by Kvass' family, I would need his blood to undo it. When Fenrir had offered to gather the blood for me, I had refused him, because I had feared exactly what had happened now.

Kvass bent own to pick up his whip; before he could reach it, I had taken a few steps forward and trapped it with my foot. Very slowly, Kvass straightened up. I had to crane my neck slightly to look him in the eye and yet it was him who backed away first.

"I want you out of my camp," I announced.

Kvass paled on the spot. "You can't be serious."

"Deadly serious," I replied. "I want you to go pack your bags and leave by nightfall."

He laughed. It was the laughter of the proverbial mad king, a high-pitched, skin-crawling sound. "This is my camp," he said and with every word, his voice got more high-pitched. "And my soldiers, loyal only to me-"

"Your soldiers," I interrupted. "Hate you. And if I were to pay, there'd be no doubt who they'd be loyal to."

"But you can't pay!" he shouted it out as if he had caught me in a lie.

"Asgard can," I said. It was a bit of reach; it depended on my war being successful, on Loki not having spent every cent we ever had - it depended on too much that I would rely on it if I were a soldier.  
But I was not a soldier, and I had not just spent two weeks suffering under Kvass' rod.

A roar sounded through the camp, starting with those closest to me and making its way like a tsunami across the crowd. Kvass staggered a few feet backwards, but only hit a wall of roaring men.

"You," he stuttered out. "You - witch!"

It was faster done than I could even think. With a sharp movement of my hand, my magic cut across his cheek and left a deep, bleeding gash. It dropped unhindered onto the floor.

"Yes," I said. "A witch. Now get out of my camp!"

He ran as if Surtr himself had turned up on his doorstep.

* * *

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	10. Sleep No More

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed - I'm glad y'all are glad this story's back, I'm also happy to be back at it. Enjoy the new chapter!**

* * *

 **Sleep No More**

* * *

The old woman that had alerted me was called Embla. I could not figure out if she was in any way related to Fenrir, or if it was just custom among their people, but she cared for him like a mother.  
They had set him up in a medical tent. Until then, I had not known that such a thing existed, but now I wondered why I had never asked for it before. It was a necessary thing to have.

Embla shooed me away when I offered to speed up the healing process. "Some things need their time," she told me. "It's best to let nature run its course."

"I just want to help Mother Nature along a bit."

She tisked at me, but she was smiling. "Save your strength," she said. "He would blame himself forever if you wasted energy on him and failed to do what you planned."

She did have a point, there. Now that I had kicked Kvass out, it would only be a matter of time until King Freyr came barging in here, probably with his own army. I needed to free the shapeshifters and then get my men on the way. If Freyr did not catch me here, chances were he would try to contact the Allfather. Which meant that Loki would know where I was probably in less than a week. That was not a lot of time to hide an entire army.

I had scraped Kvass' blood of the floor - or rather, I had let my magic do the work. The only thing left do was to get to work.

"Please tell me when he's up," I said.

Embla bowed her head and I did the same; with Kvass gone, the time for subjugation had passed. For now, I did not want any of these people to bow to me.

Once I stepped out of the tent, I practically ran directly into Hogun, who had shouldered his bags and wore his swords and was looking even more grim than usual.

I raised my chin. "Well?" I asked.

"I'm not standing against my king," he said flatly.

"So you rather stand against your queen?" I asked.

Hogun's eyes narrowed just slightly. "There is no queen," he said.

I felt a pang in my chest. "If that is how it is," I said. "I bid you farewell and godspeed."

It was hard to say whether he was surprised by this response, angered, or pleased. It did not really matter. I had lost his loyalty and he would run back to Freyr - that would not change a thing now. I was absolutely sure that he would not go to Loki, so I had no qualms about letting him go. Perhaps we were both better off without each other.

"You should know," Hogun said. "That I called out for Heimdall. He didn't answer."

That was uncommon. It was indeed so uncommon that it either meant that Heimdall had good reason not to hear Hogun's call or that something terrible had befallen him. Had Loki taken measures now after I had sought him out again? Was Heimdall too bothersome after all? It did not bode well for Asgard if Heimdall had been removed.

I parted ways with Hogun and made my way back to my own tent. On the way, soldiers were yelling for me and drinking in my honour. Maybe I would be able to join them once I had gotten us all to safety.

Once I pushed my tent open, I saw why Heimdall had not answered Hogun's call: he sat right here in my own place. The moment that I entered, his eyes found me and for once focused directly on me.

I drew in a deep breath. "You had us worried."

He cocked his head to the side. "Hogun called for me, but you needed my answer."

I raised an eyebrow. It was news to me that I needed Heimdall's assistance - indeed, I would have much preferred not to discuss the current situation with him. I could already imagine what he would have to say.

"Do you think this is smart?" he asked. "You bring the fury of King Freyr on yourself, you lose yourself your exile and your men-"

"I'm not losing my men," I said.

Heimdall leant forward. He had sat down on the chair behind my desk and standing in front of him felt uncomfortably like having to justify myself to my father.  
"You're evading the point," he said.

"The point is," I said. "That this might not be smart, but it is right."

He sighed heavily. He probably had never had to have that kind of conversation with my father, who had always done what was smart for Asgard, even if it was not right. But there were things that were more important than might or money; I had found such a thing here.

"If your spell goes wrong-"

"You tell that to Loki, not to me," I said.

Heimdall grit his teeth. "Maybe he's right to refuse you."

"No, he isn't, and you and I both know it." When he continued to glare at me, I squared my shoulders. "I'll do it with or without him and neither of you will deter me."

His head rose until he was staring at the ceiling. "I strongly advise you against it."

"And I acknowledge your concern."

"Asgard would be lost without you," Heimdall said.

"Until now, it seems to be doing fine," I shot back. "And if something were to happen to me, you contact Thor. Our family has not yet expired."

Heimdall got up. Heavy feet walked across to me; and yet the sound was only in my mind, only manifactured by Heimdall's own magic. Even so, his hand on my shoulder was warm and heavy.

"Loki used to be a smart child," he said thoughtfully. As he spoke, the weight on my shoulder got lighter and lighter. "Maybe he'll come to his senses."

I very much doubted it. Heimdall's form disappeared completely. When I turned to where he had stood beside me, it was as if he had never been there.  
Which was completely true - and yet I could not pretend that an illusion was not real to me.

I pulled the entrance sheets to the tent as firmly closed as I could. Kvass' blood swayed in the small vial that I had put it in. Fenrir's was in another and the bowl was set. My heart was pounding in my chest. As I set the bowl down in front of me, it almost fell because my hands were shaking so much.  
I sat down cross-legged on the floor. A small needle drew a drop of my own blood. My throat was tight, but there was no way back. A quick wave of my hand set the liquid in the bowl spinning. Lights started sparkling within once I had added Kvass' blood - that was undoubtedly a good sign.

My hands extended over the bowl, shaking where they were. My chant started very quietly and came out in breathy whispers rather than a confident song.  
I felt the pull of magic somewhere beneath my navel; smoke started rising from the bowl.

By now, not only my hands, but my whole arms were shaking. It was starting to get difficult to breathe. The lights were getting all the more brighter.  
It was as if I had reached a wall; there were stones already falling, but it did not yet give in.  
My stomach turned. Something wet and salty ran down from my nose and into my mouth. I shuddered when I tasted blood. The wall would not crumble.

I closed my eyes as I tried to concentrate and chant a little more firmly as if I could will it to happen.

Then, suddenly, someone grabbed my hands. My eyes shot open, but there was no one to be seen; yet I could feel the fingers clutching mine as clearly as I could feel the ground beneath me.  
I felt the rush of emotion next. It was mostly a grim sort of determination; there was anger, frustration - and there was also that spark of affection, the kind I had always felt when Loki had dragged me along to some hellish plan.

The nosebleed had stopped already. Between my chanting, I hoped that he could feel the thankfulness inside of me. Either way, I squeezed the nonexistent hands as tightly as I could. The smoke was enveloping me now and the wall was swaying. I could draw in a full breath now. Suddenly, it seemed like our magic could do anything we would ever dream of.

Then it broke.

There was no sound, but I swore I could hear something breaking; a loud, clanking sound echoed in my ears. The lights got blinding in one, bright spark and then died down.  
Over the bowl, the blood still swirling within, my hands were still interlinked with Loki's.

It was over, but I could not bring myself to let go. This was how it had been before; this was how I wanted it to be always. If I squeezed a little tighter, I could pretend that this was still a possibility.

"Thank you," I whispered, though I did not know if he could hear me. Perhaps Heimdall was watching.

He was still feeling the frustration; but there was also a kind of benevolent happiness that I took as a _you're welcome_. Maybe he could also feel my _I love you._

The conversation - that was not much of a conversation at all - was suddenly interrupted by shouting outside. The connection was gone as soon as the sound reached my ears.

I jumpet my feet and tore back the sheets of the tent. It was as if I had stepped into beehive. Soldiers were running and shouting and it quickly became obvious why: a giant wolf was tearing its way through the camp.  
It was the largest living thing I had ever seen in my life. It snarled at a group of soldiers that had jumped in its way with lances and swords, and revealed large, razor-sharp teeth. As soon as they saw it, the soldiers ran to where they had come from.

I could not fault them for that: the wolf was larger than life. It did not just tower over the entire camp; it was so huge that it did not even seem real.

"Out of the way," I shouted.

No one hesitated to obey. The way emptied before me as everyone rushed to the sidelines. The wolf bound across the distance between me and him in two very large steps. Then it was standing over me, teeth blazing; its paws, each almost larger than me, shook the ground with each shift of his body.

I did not know what to do. As a child, my mother had taught me to stay still if I saw feral dogs and not move at all - that way they would not notice me as pray. I felt it was too late for that kind of behaviour now.

"There, there," I said. I had nothing to lose, did I? Worry twisted into my emotions that was not mine. I wondered what Loki would feel if I got mauled by a wolf. "Everything's fine, isn't it? What's there to be upset about? Shush now..."

The wolf craned his neck to look down on me. Its eyebrows had pulled together as if it was studying me.

"See," I said. My voice was shaking now, worse than it had been before during my chant. "Everything's fine..."

It began shrinking before my very eyes. At first, I thought it was a trick of the mind, but soon it was undeniable. It got smaller. It reached the height of the tents; my height; its form started changing. The rest happened so quickly that I would have missed it had I blinked: instead of the dog, a man was sitting in front of me now.

Fenrir.

My mouth dropped open. Shapeshifters, I thought. Of course. Not once had I thought about what they would shift into, but now that I had seen it, it was magnificent. Of course the Vanir had to bind these people. If that was not an army, than I did not know what was.

"Milady," Fenrir breathed out. "Forgive me-"

"There is no need," I said.

He looked up to me and his yellow eyes widened. "You did it," he said. "You freed us."

A smile spread on my face. "I did have a bit of help."

There was not a lot of time for explanations or even a celebration - though luckily, the shapeshifters were still a bit too numb with the sudden change to celebrate much of anything.  
We had to pick up and leave. Even though everyone was working their fastest, it took a day and a night before things looked even remotely like they could get done.

Fenrir protested harshly when I order him and his people to leave first. "I will not leave you, milady-"

"I'll be fine," I said. "It is you and your people that they will first go after."

His jaw clenched. "You've seen me, we are not afraid-"

He did have a point, and if it was only him, I would not have sent him away. But his people were not only able and strong - there were elderly, and children; and a lot of them had never shifted in their lives. None of them had ever seen battle. It would be more than irresponsible to throw them into jeopardy.

"I gave you an order," I said. "I want you to see it through."

He was not pleased; in fact, I thought he was rather disappointed. But I could not send a bunch of inexperienced people through the country without any protection. I needed someone I could rely on to accompany them and wait for us.

When my army set out two days after, we could see the first signs of Freyr's army on the horizon.

* * *

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	11. Escape

**I know, I know, I'm late - last weekend was super busy for some reason, so I had to postpone a week. BUT the new chapter is here and I hope y'all enjoy.  
Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and most of all those who reviewed the last chapter!**

* * *

 **Escape**

* * *

I had picked out a portal on the outskirts of Vanheim. It was far out of the way and should be large enough to let us filter through quickly. Opening a portal by myself was out of the question and using the Bifrost was even more impossible: my father had always sent his Einherjar through the Rainbow Bridge, but that would never work without Loki's consent - which he would not give, or else he would find out where we went.

I was riding at the front, cavalry following; that was followed by soldiers on foot, and finally followed by all the carts, stocks and cannons that had to be drawn by mules.  
I had never travelled like that: days on horseback were taking its toll on me quickly. My legs and my arse were burning and my neck was protesting as well. I was lucky to ride, though: I tried to walk for half a day and decided that I definitely could not make it all the way by foot.  
I did not complain, though - I wanted to lead by example. So I rode on - or occasionally walked - and held my head high as if nothing could ever stop me.

All the while, Freyr's army was catching up to us. Every few hours or so, someone would ride up to me with the news - usually with their horse panting because they had made it gallop the whole way.  
 _A little closer now_ , they would tell me or, _they took a break when we didn't_ , but usually, _they're catching up_.  
I would have preferred if he had not known where we went; but with him so close behind, that was out of the question. At least, we would have to make it so he could not follow.

After three days, we could finally see the smoke of camp fires that showed we were close to the shapeshifters we had sent ahead. Indeed, when we reached the top of the hill, we could see them beneath, strewn across the valley in various little groups, each with their own fire.  
In front of the stone formation that I had described, I could see Fenrir, in wolf form, patrolling up and down. The hair at the back of my neck stood up at the sight: it made my heart jump with joy and yet it was terrifying. None of his people seemed bothered by it; perhaps because they had seen a lot of this in the past days or perhaps it was a sight ingrained somewhere deep in their soul.

Once he saw us coming, Fenrir seamlessly shifted back; even though this was the first time in his life that he was free to do so, it had already become second nature.

"The valley is large enough to hold the army," Fenrir explained after the greetings and after my horse had been sent of to be fed and watered. "And the hill is a good watch point."

"You're right," I said. "But we won't stay long."

He followed on my heel as I set out to inspect the formation. It was a large swooping gateway of light, yellow stone; and yet at the top, there was another small line, as if a bridge. The hole that it formed between it and the top of the arch was high enough for our carts and wide enough for maybe two or three people to pass through together - I had no doubt that this was the way to go. If you tried to gaze through it, the world twisted; it was as if you saw another sky.

"Through there?" Fenrir asked. "But how?"

"We would need a ramp," I said. "A large one, and stable, so that it holds a horse and a cart."

Fenrir looked from me to the arch and back. "But where will we arrive?"

"I don't know."

I knew nothing but the realm: Svartalfheim. It was an uncomfortable place to go; hot, and it would not provide for us. But Freyr would probably not follow us there and I knew that there was no ruler to wish us ill - the Dark Elves were luckily gone forever.  
Whether we would arrive on a plateau or fall through open air, I could not say. I rather hoped for the first and experience showed that portals were usually hard to reach, but provided a soft landing.

"You are sure this will work?"

"Absolutely," I said.

Fenrir hesitated. "My people have a lot to lose now," he said. "When we had nothing before."

"I will give you even more than you have now," I said. "True freedom. And peace. But I can't give it to you here, so you and your people will either have to come with me or go back to their slavers."

"Milady," Fenrir said. "You know I would follow you to the end of the world-"

I cracked a smile. "I'm not even asking that."

They began building the ramp within the next hour, but until nightfall, they had barely gathered enough materials to reach to my hips. I figured that this was a reasonable speed, but we did not have the time for reasonable.

One of our messengers returned and announced that we maybe had a day, certainly not more, rather likely we had less.  
Everyone who had even a bit strength left was ordered to help with the building, but even so things were not going smoothly. I sat on a small stoop overseeing the arch and weaved the ropes to hold the ramp together - I wanted to enforce them with magic to make sure it would not break while we were crossing.

Fenrir had gathered a troop of his own people, young men and a few able women. I even saw a group of maybe five children carrying a large trunk of wood.

"Where are you going?"

I flinched and my ropes fell to the floor; the spell was probably ruined. Loki was sitting next to me and his eyebrows had pulled tightly together.

I bent down to pick up my ropes and hoped that my heart rate would slow down if I took my eyes off him. "I thought we weren't talking anymore," I said while I did not have to look.

He scoffed. "I just freed an entire people for you."

" _We_ freed them," I said. I straightened up and saw the children, who had just carried so heavily, run in the other direction. One of them even jumped a little bit. "Look how happy they are."

"I don't care if they're happy," he said and sounded like he might want to add something, but did not. "Where are you taking them?"

Against all better judgment, a small smile spread on my face. "Nothing's changed," I said. "You know I won't tell you where I'm going."

Loki shook his head. "I just have to wait long enough, and someone around here will tell me-"

"No one knows," I said. "I'm not stupid."

I had not foreseen Loki coming here, but I still had not told anyone - it had been more a feeling than a conscious decision, but I wanted neither Loki nor any potential spies to know where we were going. Either way, it played right into my hands.  
It was better to pretend that I had planned this all along.

His projection flickered slightly when I started weaving again. "Anything else you wanted?" I asked.

"You better hurry," he said. "Or Freyr will catch you."  
My hand froze over the rope. I had hoped that he would not figure that out, but no luck - I should have known that he would realize where I was once he had come to my rescue.  
"Or I might," Loki added.

"No worries," I said tightly. "We'll be quick."

The last thing I saw of him was how his eyebrow rose. Then he was gone.

A wave of my hand finished the rope and I jumped up before it was done. "Hurry up!" I yelled. "Everyone! Hurry!"

It was hard to say how long it would take until Loi could be here. He had to gather men; had to prep them. If I was very lucky, his new gatekeeper would have trouble keeping the Bifrost open. But even then, it could hardly be more than a few hours.

At the news that the enemy was fast approaching - though they did not know just which enemy was coming - my soldiers and shapeshifters started working twice as hard. It was still clear to see that we would not finish before the night was out and perhaps not even then.

"You seem worried now," Fenrir observed as the sun was setting.

I swallowed hard. "I am."

He was silent for a beat. "The king getting closer?"

I did not want to talk about it, but I also remembered him saying that he would better help me if he knew what was going on. He had been right.  
"Also that," I said. "But mostly it's my brother."

"Your brother? The one you asked for help?"

"And he did help," I said. "Only now he knows where we are and he's spent months trying to find me, so... That's not very good."

Fenrir blinked - his head turned to look at the half-finished ramp, and then he looked back at me. "I see," he said.

Maybe I should take the time one day to explain the whole thing in detail - but then, did I really want to explain details?  
I wished that we were going to Midgard instead; talking to Tony Stark would be so welcome right now. Also, I trusted no one else to take the revelation of incest in stride as he had. Though of course, Loki was not actually my brother - but when had that ever mattered?

"Couldn't you erect the ramp with magic?" Fenrir asked. "We could be gone already."

"I want to close the portal behind us, or they will all follow," I said. "So I need to save my strength."

"We could tear the ramp down after us-"

"That'll gain us, if anything, a day," I said. "It's not enough."

Fenrir nodded slowly, though he seemed sceptical still. "I'll tell them to be even quicker."

Even quicker sounded good to me and it looked even better in practice: Fenrir had figured that transforming into a giant beast was not only good to scare his queen: it also served well to build a ramp. A giant wolf was able to carry a lot more than a single man, and where wood would have to be hauled up by several people before, now the head of the wolf was already at the right height.  
The soldiers were taken aback - but as any good warrior did, they adapted to the change fast. By dawn, the ramp was ready and stable.

Most of the camp was dead tired and swaying on their feet. A few kids were still up and about, but each of them small enough to still be carried was sleeping in their parent's arms.  
Even the wolves were yawning. Fenrir and three others trotted slowly around the arch and the ramp, their heavy paws dragging.

When he reached me Fenrir put his head down heavily next to me. The impact shook the earth.

"You got to get up again, big guy," I said. "We can't rest until we're through." His tongue lolled out and his eyelids dropped. "Yes, I understand. But you need to go through first."

His head rose and before I knew it, the man was sitting in front of me, and not the wolf. "No," he said.

I cracked a smile. "Yes," I said. "I need to stay behind, and I need someone to take charge on the other side. Who else would I send?"

"If your brother comes here, you'll need protection-"

"I'm my own best protection," I shot back. "So go gather your people and go up the ramp, and I'll see you on the other side."

His jaw clenched. I could understand that I was testing his patience, but it was true: Svartalfheim was not the friendliest place. At this point, I did not know if we would ever successfully leave it. While things were collapsing on my side of the portal, I needed to know that my people were safe - and I could only know it if I sent Fenrir through first.

He was even more grumpy than when I had sent him ahead days ago, but he did what he was told to do.  
Very soon, people were climbing up the ramp, pulling mules and horses and carts after them. The construction swayed but slightly and after the first cannon had been pulled across, I was confident that it would hold.

We were halfway through when the first of King Freyr's horsemen appeared above our valley. A few of the children screamed. I did not have to give the order to usher them forward; my soldiers parted on their own to let the shapeshifters through first. Some were calling for me; with my heart beating out of my chest, I wished that I could go through first, and be safe - but there was a reason that my brother Thor had always ridden first into battle, as had our father when he was young, and it was why I had to be last now.

While my army filed into another world, Freyr was positioning his men above us. The first cannons were rolled out when we were about forty people short of success. They fired when there were still thirty to go and I had just stepped onto our ramp. The cannon ball flew over our heads, smashed into an arrangement of rocks behind us and shook the earth; the ramp swayed, but held up - my heart was beating even harder now.

They fired again and again, but they did not hit us; it was nothing short of a miracle. But all miracles came with a cost: when only five soldiers were ahead of me, the sky lit up with the beam of the Bifrost. My throat closed up; so he was indeed coming to get me.

"Faster!" I shouted, though it came out more as a squeak

The ramp got blown apart the moment that I stepped onto the arch. I slipped and stumbled. My fingers drew across the stone and the skin ripped open. The wood had splintered and flown all across the valley; some of it burned right beneath me. The Bifrost hit the ground in the middle of the burning shrubble. I stepped back and felt the pull of the portal; beneath me, Loki stepped out of the Rainbow Bridge - though he wore our father's face and wielded our father's scepter. His face rose to look at me, and I knew that he would not let me do it.  
Another step backward, and I could not see him anymore; but I could feel him, his magic reaching for me, trying to cut me off. My hands touched the arch on either side and I concentrated, trying to bring it down. The stone crumbled under my fingers, and Loki stemmed himself against it, as if he wanted to hold it together.

It was useless. Neither of us would ever win and it was against the portal's magic to collapse. Tears sprung into my eyes; if he won, it would all be for nothing. I failed, and my people would be lost forever.

There was a hand on my shoulder. Fenrir's eyes gleamed when I looked at him over my shoulder. "Channel us," he said.

I did not have time to think. Instinctively, I tapped into the other connection I know had, and it was like my eyes opened for the first time. There was so much power, so many souls, so much emotion that I did not know what to do with it.  
The arch above me shattered as if it had been hit by the cannons, too. I felt myself being pulled back; small and large stones were raining down on me - and then all was black.

* * *

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	12. The Devil Comes Here and Sighs

**Okay guys, I need to rant a little bit. I know that I'm not updating super regularly, and sometimes I can't manage to update when I said I would, but honestly. I'm absolutely fine when y'all nicely ask for the next chapter, we all leave reviews with 'hope you update soon!' etc. and that's super positive. But if 'where's the next chapter?' is all of it, then I get slightly pissed. I'm in law school, I have a life besides that, and things just get in the way. Writing takes loads of time, and editing isn't done in two minutes, either.  
I'm doing my very best and I'm not abandoning this story, I just can't hand out chapters as quickly as I used to. **

**That said, I of course appreciate everyone of you who reads and alerts and most importantly those who review (who are 99% of the time the nicest people) and I'm doing my best to give you new chapters as fast as I can. I hope you enjoy this new one :)**

* * *

 **The Devil Comes Here and Sighs**

* * *

I woke up because there was sand between my toes.  
That was, I had that feeling of something uncomfortable between my toes, something small and scratchy that I could not identify until my mind came to full consciousness.  
Then I thought that it felt a lot like sand, but I could not for the life of me figure out why there would be sand between my toes.

I heard the muttering next. A man and a woman, whispering about things like 'concussion' and 'head wounds' and I did not quite know why anyone would be whispering about that.

Then I noticed my exhaustion. I had just woken up, but my limbs were heavy and my eyes were burning with fatigue, even though I still had them closed. My fingertips were smarting and my ribs screamed when I twitched and tried to turn to the side.

I groaned quietly. That must have caught the whispering voice's attention, because they quieted and then one asked, "Milady?"

I knew that voice. It was difficult to open my eyes, but they had dimmed down the light; it was just so bearable.  
Fenrir stood over me, his face lined with worry. Embla stood next to him, and her old wrinkled face did not betray any concern. She was smiling.  
I wanted to ask many questions: had everyone made it here fine? How long had it been? What had happened, anyway, and why was I feeling this terribly?  
My vocal chords did not manage to bring out any this. Indeed, I just made a gurgling sound that was not intelligible at all.

"It's been five days," Fenrir said. At least he had guessed one of my questions. "I'm glad you're awake." His face did a funny twitch and he added, "Milady."

I tried to raise my hand and wave his concern away, but my arm was too heavy to properly make that movement.

"Stop badgering her," Embla interrupted. In a surprisingly strong move, she nudged Fenrir in the ribs and made him grown. "Help her sit up," she ordered. "She needs water."

Water was indeed helpful. My mouth was dry and my throat burned. The water was not cool, but it at least made my throat feel somewhat normal again.

"Safe?", was everything that I got out.

"Yes," Embla said in the tone that mothers used with an impatient child. "Everyone's perfectly safe."  
Fenrir coughed behind her. I jerked upwards and Embla pushed me down again. She tisked at him.  
"We found water," she said sharply. "We'll be fine."

They found water. That was indeed good news, because water meant being able to grow things; water meant being able to live. On the other hand, Fenrir's cough did not sound like we were doing fine.

"I'm just saying," Fenrir answered. "There's sand everywhere."

That explained the feeling between my toes. I had not guessed that wrong.

It took another day until I made my first shaky steps outside of the tent. Fenrir was one step behind, ready to catch me if I fell. Things did not look much different than the camp had back in Vanaheim. The only difference was the black sand that covered the ground and settled on everything around us; every tent, every weapon and every person was covered by a sheer layer of black dust.

Everyone seemed perfectly relaxed. They had settled on a small stream of water and had started readying the ground around it, perhaps to plant crops; but even the open ground was covered again in the black sand and the sun was burning down on us. I understood Fenrir's concern now: it would be difficult to grow anything in this climate, much less enough to satisfy a whole army.

The burning heat made my dizziness even worse. As the portal collapsed - or so Fenrir told me - the arch had collapsed as well, and one of its many falling stones had hit me in the head. It was no wonder that I had suffered a severe concussion; if I judged Fenrir's happiness correctly, the wonder was that I had woken up again and was still the same - or rather that I had woken up at all.

But the portal had collapsed and no one had been able to follow - not Freyr, not Kvass, not Loki. None of them would even know where we had gone to.

"Milady," Fenrir said. "If I may - where do we go from here?"

I had no idea. "For now," I said. "We stay."be no help to be found in Jotunheim, either.  
The only way to go, really, was toward Asgard - which of course, was only possible if we marched to win. Unthinkable, at least for now.

"Who is king of this land?" Fenrir asked. "Shouldn't we pay our tributes,

"Do you think we can?" he asked. "The heat, the sand..."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Adding to the dizziness, I felt a headache coming on. It was hard to say if it was due to the heat or due to thinking too hard. "We'll try," I said as decisively as my wobbly legs would let me. "And if we can't, then we'll figure something out."

Using the tents to give the crops some shadow could be a first try - and if that was not enough, maybe a cooling spell. I did not know where else to go, either way - S.H.I.E.L.D or not, the Midgardians would throw a fit if we went there; Nornheim was entirely too close to Asgard; and the Frost Giants hated us, so there would make good-?"

"There is no king," I said. "And you be glad of it, for who was king here could not be made good with."

He drew in a sharp breath. "And yet you brought us here."

"Because I knew there was no one here," I said. "Which seems preferable to all the people that actually do want to kill us."

We passed a group of children that were building sandcastles. I told them that they were the most beautiful things I had ever seen and meant it, even though their palaces looked black and burnt.  
Fenrir watched the interaction with a funny twist of his mouth. "Maybe we shouldn't have left," he said.

"Ah," I said. "Whether to die in freedom or live in chains..."

"With all due respect," Fenrir said. His voice was shaking. "You don't know chains."

"Not your kind, I'll admit," I said.  
I would never know what these people really went through, and nothing I had experienced would ever compare to it. Though I did know what it meant to not be free.I knew what it meant for my magic to be bound; I knew what it meant to be married off against my will. I knew what it meant to lead a life that had been manipulated from the first minute on. The only question was: did I live with my chains still on, or was I dying already?

There was shouting in the distance. I flinched slightly and Fenrir was by my side in seconds, touching a gentle hand to my elbow. Even in the time that it took to be steady on my feet again, the shouting did not let up. It sounded from the opposite site of the camp and the sand had risen into the air where people were running to whatever had caused the trouble.

Fenrir and I only moved forward very slowly, because my wobbly legs forced me to take a pause every few steps. By the time we, too, had arrived on the other side of the camp, a large crowd had formed. They moved aside only reluctantly and because Fenrir kept shouting to let me through.  
On the frontline, a group of soldiers had drawn their weapons and were pointing them at two figures who had been trapped between the crowd and large formation of sand and rock. They had drawn their weapons, too, but no one had attacked yet.

As the first line of defense parted, too - grumbling and again only because Fenrir insisted - I finally got a good look at their faces. My heart skipped a beat.  
They were Sif and Fandral.

"Eirlys!" Fandral called out and Sif muttered, "Thank Odin."

As Sif stepped forward, Fenrir practically jumped in front of me. He was not even armed and Sif looked at him as if she could not believe that anyone could be that stupid.

"It's fine," I hurried to say and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I know them."

He twisted his neck to look at me and his eyebrows drew together. "Milady, are you-"

"Sure," I finished. "Yes, absolutely."

Fenrir stepped backwards, but his movements were still tense. Maybe he thought the hit on the head had also impaired my memory.

Sif rammed her sword into the ground the moment he stepped back. It barely stood straight because the sand did not hold, but the sign was crystal clear. Behind me, the soldiers let their weapons sink in unison. Fandral, too, let his sword slide back into its sheet.

"We've been wandering this desert for 2 days," Sif announced.

I raised an eyebrow. That was not the kind of greeting that I usually received, but it was completely usual for Sif. The initial joy of seeing the two here ebbed away immediately.

"By which we mean," Fandral cut in. "That we would do a lot for a bit of water."

Indeed, they drank so much that Fenrir made his worried face again - though there was running water nearby, it took a lot of effort and time to clean it of all the sand and it therefore became a rare good. After two days in the desert, even I could not deny them the luxury.  
I also found that they were lucky that it had not come to a fight. The sand had gotten into the sheaths and onto the blades; Fandral's sword was all but blunt and Sif's weapon would not have cut through flesh.

Embla had set a table under the shadow of my tent. Fandral soon leant against the side of the tent, his eyes fluttering closed. Sif, on the other hand, was wide awake and she smelled every piece of food before she put it in her mouth.

Fenrir had sat down with crossed legs behind me, halfway on the sand but my gesture to come sit next to me had had no success and I did not want to argue in front of guests.

"I can't believe you're here," I said.

Sif stopped with a piece of bread in the air between the plate and her mouth. "I can't believe _you're_ here," she said.

The tone in her voice made every fiber in me that was still a teenager cringe. It was that same tone she always had when we were younger, the kind she had used when she told Loki that he could only ever best anyone by cheating or told me that girls like me could never be warriors like herself.  
It made me want to cut her hair off again. The first attempt had only made her look prettier.

"With my soldiers in my camp?" I inquired as politely as I could. "That's hardly surprising."

"What?" Sif said. "Are you queen of the sandcastles now?" She leant forward. "Eirlys, Heimdall was worried about you, that's why he came to us."

"Huh," I said.

Since I had freed the shapeshifters, I had not heard from Heimdall, but even before, he had not said a lot about what was going on in Asgard. That he would warn Sif and Fandral, meant that he was sneaking around the palace, plotting; that seemed like madness.

Could it be that there was a resistance forming within Loki's own home? For a moment, I had the impulse to run and warn him; then I remembered that any kind of resistance would rather be on my side, and Loki would very much not be.

"How are things in Asgard?" I asked.

Sif huffed. "Peaceful," she said. "Maybe too peaceful."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is there such a thing as too peaceful?"

It came bubbling out of her now. "He's putting on plays! And it seemed really weird, but given that it's _Loki_ , oh, we really shouldn't be surprised! And he's letting the bards sing his praises! All we've done for months is _celebrating_ , and no one cares what happens in the Nine Realms!"  
Fandral sat up straighter now, too, suddenly awake again. Sif had put her food down for good, and her hands were shaking now.  
"We could be attacked at any moment, and we wouldn't even know! And then, then! All of a sudden, he wants to ride to war, right in the middle of Vanaheim, and by the Norns, it is _you_ , fighting with the Vanir king! This is madness!"

She stopped and drew in a deep breath. Her chest was heaving. Fandral leant forward and put a hand on her shoulder as if to comfort her.

"Well," I said slowly. "I am glad if he's celebrating. Surprise attacks are much easier when the attacked is drunk."

Sif clenched her teeth; the muscles in her jaw twitched. But while the insecure girl in me had raised her head before, I was not that girl anymore, and Sif's anger did not scare me anymore.

Indeed, what she had told me was worrying: Loki had clearly sent away anyone who could be troublesome to him and was now silencing the population with bread and games. I just could not believe that this was all he wanted. Being satisfied with wine and drink was not like him at all.  
Which meant that he had to have some kind of other plan or something was terribly wrong.

* * *

 **Leave me a review, please (not a demanding one, maybe ;) ), it would make my day!**


	13. The Impossible Thought

**Uh... it's been a while again, hasn't it? Sorry about that. Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and most of all reviewed since then. It's greatly appreciated!**

* * *

 **The Impossible Thought**

* * *

Sif had been obviously boiling when Embla brought them to their quarters, but neither her nor Fandral had protested when I had bid them goodnight. They were both exhausted. Indeed, I did not see them during the following day. While I tried to improve my strength by short walks on shaky legs, the cover of their tent remained firmly closed.

It was just as well. Now that I was up and about again, the problems of the camp became more apparent. The kids that had so peacefully played yesterday now all suffered a sunburn. It was close to impossible to keep the sand out of our provisions, and we had not yet managed to grow anything that was edible. The soldiers could not find a good training field; there was nowhere that they could find good footing and they overheated within minutes.

With a proper Einherjar army, I would not be bothered by all of this: there were always magic-wielders in their ranks. The sand would be hardened, the food protected and the crops cooled, no matter how much mockery would come from warriors like Sif.  
I was by far not the only magic wielder in this camp - indeed, all the shapeshifters had to have some magic in them, or they would not shift - but none of them had ever studied magic and they were not able to channel it into anything but their shifting. No doubt they could be taught, but they would not learn quick enough to solve our problems.

No, either we found a manual solution or we needed to move on as quickly as possible. I just for the life of me did not know where we would go.  
S.H.I.E.L.D would throw a fit if we turned up on Midgard... but other than that, the only place left to go was Jotunheim.

Which was absolute madness. The Jotuns hated Asgard, surely even more since Loki had killed their king just years ago - for people like us, this was little more than the blink of an eye.

I wondered how long the shapeshifters lived. Did they endure the centuries like us Asgardians did or live expire as quickly as that of the Midgardians? I did not want to see children be born and die without ever finding a true home.

Some in the camp kept their calm well. Embla, for example, always seemed like nothing could faze her. She tended to everyone who came her way and had a friendly word for even the rudest of people.  
Others were obviously concerned. Since I was not particularly fast right now, I could not escape anyone who wanted to complain and most soldiers did want to complain. This was not what they had come for: there were families to be thought of and payments to be won - I got the impression that, most importantly, they finally wanted to do what they had been hired for.

"The farmers are worried about the crops," Fenrir told me when I returned to my tent around midday. "They say the heat is making them shrink as they watch."

"I'll look at them later," I said. "Maybe I can cool them down a bit."

Truth be told, I though myself to be too weak right now to waste it on a few plants. Surely, we would have enough provisions to last us at least a little bit longer?  
The thought was dismissed quickly - we were not talking about a few plants, but rather the life of hundreds of people.

"I haven't seen your friends yet," Fenrir continued. "Do you think they are hiding?"

If I knew one thing, it was that Sif would never hide from anything; and such a thing was not like Fandral, either. More likely, they were still to exhausted to deal with the day.

"Do they have anything to be afraid of?" I asked.

"They are warriors from a king's court," Fenrir said and did not need to say anything more.

I understood that he was wary - I understood every single shapeshifters mistrust of new people, especially if they came from a court, especially when they came from a place like Asgard.  
"Are they here to bring you home?"

Fenrir suddenly sounded like a child. My heart broke a little - I wished for nothing more than being able to go home; but Fenrir had no home to go back to.

"No," I said. "There's no going home for me, and everyone knows it."

There was only winning a war. Which I would never do if I remained stuck here with my army. So I would have to see to it that we got out of here.

Fandral came out when the sun had already sunk. It was a smart move; after a day in the sun, I wished that I had stayed inside, as well. He sat down, cross-legged, under the canopy of my tent and accepted a cup of water; though his thirst was obviously not as urgent as last night.

The last time I had seen him, we had been on a mad escape from Asgard and the two of us had stolen a spaceship from the royal guard. It had not even been a year, but it seemed like ages ago.

"Sif still too tired?" I asked.

"She's a little mad at you," Fandral said.

That put a smile on my face. "When isn't she?"

Fandral cracked a smile as well. No one could remember a time when Sif and I had not been fighting. Back in the day, it had been about Loki; by now, it was personal animosity.

"She's right, though," Fandral said. "This place... You can't stay here. Everyone knows that there can be no life on Svartalfheim."

"I think the Dark Elves might disagree."

Fandral pulled a face that expressed just how ridiculous my words had been. For one, the Dark Elves had not lived here in centuries - and even then, they strove on chaos like this. They were not in any way comparable to Asgardians or the Vanir.

"Seriously, Eirlys," Fandral said. "People don't follow a leader who stubbornly remains on a path that leads nowhere-"

"You would have followed Thor to the end of the world," I said.  
My brother had always been stubborn; back in the day, this had frequently lead him into disaster. Indeed, it was the very reason that he had been banished from Asgard. If even my father thought that someone was too aggressive, that had to mean something.

Fandral's eyebrows rose. He had a point, of course, and I knew it - I had known it for this entire day, if not longer. Admitting it was a whole other matter.

"Well?" he asked.

I sighed. This was absolute madness. "There's one way," I said. "But you'll hate that path even more."  
Fandral shifted; maybe he, too, remembered what it meant to make a plan with Loki and I.  
"The only place left to go," I continued. "Is Jotunheim."

He shook his head. "No," he said. "Eirlys, anything but that."

"You said we can't stay here, and you're right," I said. "But we can't go to Asgard, either, we're not ready. If we beg the Jotuns, there might yet be a chance for peace."

He leant forward to look me straight in the eye. "You have nothing to offer."

"I could offer revenge."

Fandral scoffed. Then he did a double take, because I did not start laughing. "You wouldn't sell Loki out," he said. "There is no way."  
He almost sounded like he took it personally. As if betraying an old comrade was the worst of sins, even if the comrade was the greatest sinner of all.

"I'm not saying I would," I told him. Because honestly, as much as I sometimes hated Loki, I did not know if I could actually leave him to his doom. "But I'm saying I could offer, if I had to."

"And have another war on your hands, this time against the Frost Giants?" Fandral looked at me as if I had gone mad. Perhaps I had.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," I said. "Maybe offering them the casket will suffice."

Fandral looked even more scandalized now. The Casket of Ancient Winters was an ancient artifact that my father had stolen from the Frost Giants centuries ago. It had been their source of power and they had aimed to get it back ever since.  
It was risky business even suggesting to give it back - the Frost Giants could be a dangerous foe. But I need to get my people somewhere safe.

"We knew the Frost Giants survive," I said. "So there has to be a way in Jotunheim, if there is none here."

Fandral glanced over his shoulder; maybe he hoped that Sif would appear there and safe him. She did not. "You should sleep," he said finally. "Maybe tomorrow you'll see why this is a bad idea."

"Or you'll see why it's good," I responded. "Either way, we'll both have to see what the future holds."

Fandral shook his head slowly. He had never been the thoughtful part of Thor's warrior friends; I had already lost myself the thoughtful part when Hogun left. Fandral had been the one to go with the circumstances and just make up the plan as he went along.  
It might have been a bad sign that he was contemplating now.

I did not get to go to sleep. After Fandral had left, it took less than ten minutes until Sif stood in the middle of my tent - she had not made her presence known; knocking was not practical on tents, anyway.  
She was fuming, again. Maybe she did not exist in any other emotional capacity. Fenrir came running after her, his ears a bright red; Sif was probably lucky that she had encountered the man and not the wolf.

Though I should have known that she would be coming, I had been brushing out my hair and was sitting on the makeshift bed at the far corner. That put the staple of wooden boxes that functioned as my desk squarely between us. Maybe that was good.

"Have you gone absolutely mad?"  
Her voice was so screechy that it rang in my ears. Fenrir's lips pulled back in a snarl.  
This was also the second time that she had called me mad since she had arrived here and I very much disliked that.

"I don't believe I have, no." I put the brush down slowly and pushed myself up. "Fandral told you."

"Yes, Fandral told me!" she shot back. "Going to Jotunheim, you're putting us all in danger-"

I raised my chin. "No one said you have to come," I told her.

That stopped her short. Sif blinked and pushed a few strands of hair out her face.  
I honestly did not know why she was surprised. She had come here without asking and had since pushed her opinions on me without being asked them, either. We were not friends; we were barely even companions.

I walked forward and put my hands on the makeshift table. "I'm insulted that you think I'd take all these people and their children and hand them over to the Jotuns without any further thought," I continued.

"I should have known," Sif said. She looked as if every muscle in her body had clenched. "That there is some other plan you're not disclosing."

"I haven't decided on details yet," I said. "That doesn't mean I'm lying."

"Twisting your words," she spat. "You're just like him."

It stung only in the first moments when the words registered as the insult they were meant as.  
Then sense kicked in; and if there was one thing I would need when I went to the Frost Giants, it was to say both yes and no and be held to neither of it.

"Thank you," I said.

She huffed and took a step forward. Before she could get any closer, Fenrir had made his own step and laid a firm hand on her shoulder.  
Sif looked over her shoulder and her hand flew to where her weapon usually hang - but she did not have it with her and her face fell when she realized it.

"I'm trying to help," Sif said.

"I know," I said. "But maybe you don't actually know better than me."

She pursed her lips, but with Fenrir's hand still on her shoulder, she had no choice but to bow her head. It was good enough for me, at least for now.

"If you don't mind," I said. "I'd like to discuss this further, but tomorrow, when I've slept and you've cooled off."

She shook of Fenrir's hand and turned to leave with another huff. "Just like him," I heard her mutter again before she left the tent.

Maybe I was like Loki - could there be any other way when two people were as closely linked as we were?  
Even if it was true, I was not lying now. I would not lead my people directly into their death. No, I would have to go broker peace first; better I lost my life than an entire people if things went wrong.

* * *

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	14. A Meeting in the Library

**I know, I know, I've disappeared again. Good news: I graduated! Bad news: now I have to move towns, and my brother has to move, too, and it's a mess.  
Seriously, though, I hope to update a lot more frequently now that I have the time to write again.**

 **Thank you all for your patience, and of course also for reviewing the last chapter and for alerting and fav'ing and all that.  
Enjoy the new chapter!**

* * *

 **A Meeting in the Library**

* * *

Asgard's library was quiet and dark. Even the librarian had extinguished his light and was nowhere to be seen. It was like wandering through the woods far from civilization; where that dim, moon-like light came from, I had never been able to figure out. It even smelled like wood and grass.  
Despite the darkness, I did not use any light; I did not need it. The library was more familiar to me than my own bedroom. Even if I had not seen the hand before my very eyes I would have found my way through.

My fingers played over the backs of the books on the shelves, feeling the leather and the printed titles. I took in a deep breath and tasted the smell of old books.

On my way here, I had stopped by Heimdall's observatory and had found an unknown, ragged man sleeping draped over the precious sword. I could only shake my head at that; was this really better than Heimdall, even if he was secretly talking to me? At the very least, Heimdall had always been vigilant. Perhaps Loki really had gone mad.

My path took a sharp turn to the right when I reached the end of the aisle. It was even darker here, as if the forest had grown more dense.  
The aim was the section about Jotunheim. I had been to the realm once before, but that short experience - which had also involved an unwanted fight - hardly qualified me for a diplomatic mission. My studies as a child had also rather consisted of the horrors the Frost Giants inflicted, rather than anything useful  
There was no other way but to come here if I did not want to make a fool of myself, or worse, get myself killed in the first five minutes.

I turned another corner; meanwhile, I considered using at least a small light so I would not have to pick the books out at random. Though I did not have the time to truly search, anyway: I had promised Fenrir that I would be back soon. Besides, I could already feel the strain of magic. Projecting across realms like this would take its toll.

Something lit up right behind me. I stumbled and my breath came out in a sharp gasp. The magic flickered as my heart stuttered and for a moment, I thought I might be thrown back into my tent in the desert.  
The spell held, because his magic grabbed me and pulled me firmly back, closer to him.  
I reached out and grabbed the edge of the shelf to steady myself, more out of reflex than for actual help. A projection could hardly fall.

"You scared me," I said. Despite my best efforts, my voice was shaking.

"Good," Loki said. He had crossed his arms in front of his chest and was glaring at me. The light came from a lamp on the desk he was sitting at. Leaning back, he had been one with the shadows. "Did you think I wouldn't feel you sneak in? I'm not blind, you know."

My hand still held onto the shelf, but I squared my shoulders. "I had hoped you'd be busy," I said. "Though from what I hear, you're mostly busy financing the newest spectacles."

His eyes narrowed at me. "Sif and Fandral found you," he said.  
So he knew. The two of them had been sure that they had kept their knowledge secret from him - I should have known that that was not the case. There was rarely a secret that could be kept from Loki.  
"What a shame."

"Indeed," I said before I could help myself. His eyebrows shot up and I had to crack a smile. "She's been very judgemental."

He had to smile, too. "Isn't she always?"

We grinned at each other. In my mind, I saw Sif on the first day after we had given her hair back, with a scarf wrapped tightly around her head so no one would see that the golden mane had been replaced by a deep black. Loki and I had had a good laugh at it; Sif had always told him that he did not look like an Asgardian with his dark hair.  
At that point, we had not known that she was right.

Loki's face had grown serious again. Maybe he had noticed the shift in my mood, too. "What are you doing in the section about Jotunheim?"

He had known that I would come here, or else he would not have waited here for me. Which meant that he had a good idea of what I was doing here - I was not interested in playing games.

"That's none of your business," I said.

"You're mad," he said. "If you think Skadi is going to welcome your army."

"Maybe I am," I said. "Besides, you don't know any better than I do what the queen would or wouldn't do."

Granted, the plan was desperate. Everyone knew that the Jotuns hated the Asgardians, and with good reason. Loki sure had not helped with that. But it was a hope, our last and only one - and I was not above begging.  
Loki did not need to know any of that.

His eyes travelled up and down my form as if the projection would give anything away that he did not already know. "I'm not giving up this throne, Eirlys."

My heart clenched at the cold tone of his voice. I squared my shoulders, mostly to make myself feel better. "Then I'll have to take it."

He scoffed lightly. "What?" he asked. "Are you going to kill me?"

My stomach dropped in the very first second, but I caught myself. I very much doubted that I would ever be able to truly harm Loki - if the past was any indication, I was easily swayed where he was concerned.  
Still, I did my very best to feel like I might. "If I have to."

The words hit him. I could not feel it, but I could see it in the slight narrowing of his eyes and the stiffening of his shoulders. That hit did not feel like a victory.

His jaw clenched and his eyes turned away from me. "There was a time when you loved me."

I took a gentle step towards him. "I still do," I said. "I always will. That doesn't mean you should rule the Nine Realms."

He slapped his hand hard onto the desk before him. "There is _peace_ in the Nine Realms!"

I raised my chin. The times when his temper-tantrums would scare me were over. "There is peace in Asgard," I said. "But the Nine Realms are in mayhem, because no one is watching over them. You fail to do what is your most honourable duty and quite frankly, I'm disappointed."

He was on his feet in seconds. "You don't get to tell me-"

"Mother would be, too."

The words died on his tongue. It was another hit, maybe an unfair move. At once, I wanted to make it better, but could not; the apology got stuck in my throat.  
Loki glared, but he had no rebuttal. As so often, I wished that I could feel what he was feeling to at least get a glimpse of what he was thinking; had I caught him in the act or did he truly think that he was doing a great job at ruling Asgard?

When he did not say anything, I turned away and started pulling books from the shelf behind me. I had to pick them out at random now, but it hardly mattered. Random books were better than no books.

When my arms were full, I faced him again and found him still rooted in the same spot. He was not glaring anymore, though, his frown had evened out.

I could not help myself. The apology might not have come out, but there was still time to breach the gap. My heart sang at just the thought of a peaceful solution.

"You know, there's still time," I said. "I'd come back and you could be yourself. All you'd have to do is the right thing."

His lips twisted into a smile that chilled me to the core. "Run back," he said. "Before I find out where you are."

I pressed the stack of books more closely to my chest. "All the more reason to go to Jotunheim. At least there, you won't follow."

I turned to leave and my knees suddenly buckled. The magic was slowly draining out of me; he had cut me off. While our emotional bond was almost permanently blocked, he usually let the magic flow - it served him as well. This was punishment.  
My projection was flickering and my heartrate was speeding up. Without him, the limitations of my power were obvious. If the spell broke like this, I would not be able to take the books.  
"Run," he repeated.

I grit my teeth. "One day, I'll be able to break this damn bond."

"But you won't," he said.

Just like he did not, because that was the only powersource we had.  
Except, it was not. The possibility opened before my eyes like the curtain before a dramatic opera. I did have another powersource, even a much better one.

"Why not?" I asked and my voice shook with the sudden discovery. "I don't need you anymore."

The connection to the shapeshifters was not as effortless as my connection to Loki. It was like having to push open a really heavy door, the kind where you had to lean against and force it open with all your might.  
When it opened, the result was all the more glorious. I connected to the magic of not only one person but of a whole people. For a moment, it felt like more than one little body could handle.

The next moment, every candle in the library lit up. Loki flinched when he was suddenly drenched in warm, golden light. He had about two seconds to look around before a flick of my hand sent him into his chair and the chair backwards into the next shelf. A whole row of books rained down on him.

"I don't want to be cut off from you," I said. "But it's you who's going to regret it. I'll be doing just fine."

Groaning, Loki sat up and brushed several books from his lap. His magic weaved in a gentle green light around his fingers, but he did not raise his hand.

"How did you do that?" he asked.

"You have your secrets," I said. "And I have mine."

He got up and took a few steps in my direction. His face shone with intrigue. "What we could do with that power..."

He had said that many times before: when we had first connected as well as when we had laid eyes on the Tesseract - I was sure that there were times when he had thought it or I had just forgotten. It had never ended well.  
Now, I would not give him the chance to lead us into chaos. This would remain firmly mine.

"But that's not the question." I raised my chin and pulled my books even closer. "The question is only what I'm going to do with it, because you'll have no part of it."

"If you carry this to Jotunheim," Loki warned. "And your power falls into the hands of the Frost Giants-"

"Finally," I said. "I thought I 'd never get you scared."

His jaw clenched, but I held my ground and tried to stand as tall as I could with my arms still full.  
It was time to go. There was nothing left to be said and Fenrir was probably worrying already; I had been gone a lot longer than I had anticipated and he would have felt the magic's pull.

"We'll see each other again," I said. "Probably sooner rather than later."

"As always," he said.

"As always," I repeated.

His face swam before my eyes. The world spun and I clutched even tighter to my books. I closed my eyes as tightly as I could.  
For a moment, everything swirled, my skin, my soul, the world around me. Then the turmoil outside came to a rest. My feet sank into the sand beneath me. Air left my lungs in a shaky whisper.

The turmoil inside me did not stop: I should not have let him know, but there had been no other way - I should have told him, better and more certainly that I loved him, but he did not deserve to hear it. I would have liked to hear it from him even more.

When I opened my eyes to place the books on my desk, I found the topmost book's cover to be slightly damp with my tears. My heart was still beating hard.

There would be no further visit to Asgard; now that Loki knew what I could do with my power, it was time to get my people to the safety I had promised before he came to make sure I could not hurt him.  
Jotunheim was the only place to go.

* * *

 **Leave me a review, please, it'd make me very happy :)**


	15. The Sand and the Snow

**Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and most of all to those who reviewed! And, not to worry: I'm not giving up on this story. There's nothing more annoying than a forever unfinished story**

* * *

 **The Sand and the Snow**

* * *

Fenrir carried our necessities in a linen sack that he carried over his shoulder. At the same time, we both carried heavy mantles; I had changed two of my lighter coats to properly hold off the cold.  
We had found a suitable portal about a mile from our camp. Even that would be a harsh walk in the heat, but it had to be done. To make it, Fenrir and I had left as much as possible behind and had filled our bundle with a lot of water instead - a precaution that would probably be useless we arrived in Jotunheim.

With the books I had gotten from Asgard's library, we had given ourselves a crash course in Jotun etiquette. When my old teachers had portrayed the Frost Giants as uncultured and barbaric, they had been quite wrong. Their manners might not have been our manners - though honestly, they were not that far off - but to pretend that they did not have any was disingenuous.  
Maybe it had been the remnants of war propaganda; maybe it had just been sheer ignorance. Either way, it shed a very dark light indeed on Asgard's education.

Almost all the shapeshifters were following us to the edge of the camp; a few of the soldiers tacked along as well, though I figured it was more curiosity than concern.  
My people, though, were waving and crying, shouting for me to stay - they acted as if I was heading for certain death.

Sif, who accompanied us as well, thought the same thing. Despite our differences, I had handed command of the camp to her. She was by far the most capable and would be able to lead these people to safety even if I did not return.

"It's not too late," Sif said.

"It's been too late for a while," I said. "We can't stay here, Jotunheim's the only way to go."

She shook her head and her ponytail whipped from side to side. "It could be a trap," she said and sounded more desperate with every word. "Loki's one of them."

I blew out a noisy breath. It was a good thing that I could put some distance between us soon. "Loki's one of us, if we like it or not," I answered. "And if it does turn out to be a trap, then I know this camp to be in good hands." I placed a hand on her shoulder. "Give Loki hell from me."

She narrowed her eyes. "When should I expect you back?"

"In a week," I said. "Or else you have to find them another place."

Her jaw clenched; she did not have to say what was obvious: if I could not find a home for the shapeshifters, how was Sif supposed to do it?  
Besides, it was not Jotunheim that was supposed to be their new home. Ultimately, I would bring them to Asgard - I could already imagine Fenrir and his relatives setting up a home in the hills behind the palace.  
Sif, though, could not bring anyone to Asgard without me. If I died, no one but Thor had a legitimate claim to the throne and he did not want it. Maybe risking my life in Jotunheim was not the best idea.

Fenrir quickly looked over his shoulder; it was the only comment he allowed himself. For once, we had not argued about whether he could come with me or not. I did not want to go alone and Fenrir did not want to be left behind.

"You just be careful," Sif said.

"Just like you were when you last travelled to Jotunheim?"

I could almost hear her teeth grit. The last time she had been to Jotunheim, she and my brother Thor had almost started a war, which had got him banished. I might not have been entirely innocent in the whole thing, but still.

"I'll be careful," I relented. "Thank you for your concern."

We had reached the edge of the camp. The crowd that followed us stopped as if they had hit a wall. I said goodbye to Sif by placing my hand on her shoulder. She returned the gesture but for a second.  
Fenrir emerged from a group of his people and waved back to them. He was grinning broadly, as if to assure them that everything would be fine; the tension in his step said otherwise.

Together, we set off into the desert. By our plan, we just had to follow our noses. Neither of us looked back again - we wanted to inspire confidence and we could not do that if we appeared fearful. In reality, my stomach had twisted and I felt decidedly nauseous.

"Are they very tall?" Fenrir asked.

They were. I had to supress a shudder at the thought of how tall the Jotuns were.  
"You'll be fine," I said. "As a wolf, you'll be a match."

Walking across the sandy dunes was draining. We would sink in and slide back down the hills. Within minutes, my legs were burning. Fenrir was breathing heavily as he followed me - I felt terrible for making him carry all our ballast.  
The sun was burning down on us; maybe the sand was black here because even that had been burnt by the relentless sun.

I tapped into the shapeshifter's magic to cast a cooling spell on both of us. If we were drenched in sweat now and then headed into the cold of Jotunheim, we would catch the worst kinds of illness.

"Not needed," Fenrir wheezed out.

"No backchat," I shot back. "It's very needed."

It took half an hour until we had reached the portal. It was a deep hole inside a cave; for the first fifty metres or so, we had to shovel the sand away with our bare hands.  
The portal descended steeply into the darkness. We stood over it and tried to see the bottom, but could only see pitch blackness. When I had first travelled to Jotunheim, I had had to jump into a similar cave; then as now, it seemed to be a suicide maneuver.

"Are we sure?" Fenrir asked. _Are you sure_ , he really asked, _or are you leading me to my doom?_

"Yes," I said. "We are."

I grabbed his free hand - they other still clutched tightly on to our belongings - and together, we jumped into the abyss.

Jotunheim hit us in the face with a harsh whip of wind that also drenched us immediately: it was snowing. I shook of the cooling spell as quickly as I could, but the change was still dizzying. One minute, we had been struggling with the desperate heat and now I was already shivering.

Fenrir was shaking even worse, but he did not seem to notice. Instead, he was turning on his spot, trying to take in everything around him.  
We had landed, it seemed, at a mountainside, though luckily the summits loomed high above us. Stony formations covered in snow surrounded us and on the cliffs, the ice had formed wondrous creations. Jotunheim still held the beauty that I remembered it for.

"Fenrir," I said after he had mad two full turns. "The cloaks."

He jumped. Muttering apologies, he hastily unpacked our bundle and pulled out the cloaks I had prepped for this adventure. They held the warmth of Svartalfheim within them and so protected us from the cold - that had seemed a much more practical solution than having to uphold a warming spell all of the time that we spent here.  
The relief was immediate when I pulled it on. The shivering stopped and I now had the energy to gather my thoughts.

Fenrir did, too, it seemed. He stepped to my side and looked at the landscape unfolding before us. "Where to, now, milady?"

"As always when you don't know the way," I said. "Just straight ahead."

That was what we did, as best we could. We picked a path that led downwards and eventually away from the mountains and followed it.  
When Loki and I had come here, we had quickly made contact with the Frost Giants; indeed, we had picked a fight within the first ten minutes. This here looked nothing like where we had arrived then.

The cloak was wonderfully warm, but my toes soon started burning with the cold. For a few glorious minutes, I allowed myself to warm them with magic; but the spell soon became unsupportable. I tried to tap into the shapeshifters' magic, but trudging through the snow was exhausting enough.  
Fenrir followed behind me and I could hear him hiss with every step he took; his feet had to be hurting as well.

"Milady," he asked after about two hours. "What if we don't find them?"

I did not know what we would do, then. By now, it was hard to say if I would find the way back. With every step we took, the chance of that became slimmer, even if our legs should carry us that far.  
Night was falling above us and with it, the air grew even colder. By now, the icy wind was eating at my face, froze my eyes and nose and burned in my lungs.

Another hour passed. By now, it was fully dark, though the sky was clear and the stars gleamed; they icicles around us sparkled with their light.  
Even the magic of the cloak could not keep out the cold anymore. It seemed like the cold was creeping up my fingers and toes into my arms and legs. My eyes burned with tiredness.  
Would we even make it through the night? Still, there was no sign of civilisation anywhere around us. I had not imagined Jotunheim to be quite so large a realm, or at least I had thought it to be more populated - that Frost Giants would be hard to find had not even crossed my mind.

Fenrir was shivering behind me. My throat tightened and my heart clenched whenever I looked over my shoulder at him. I had brought him here out of selfish fear, and if he died here, that would be solely my fault. How could I have been so foolish?  
Sif would have to take care of my people, but where would she go? She could only assume that the Frost Giants had failed us, even when we would be lying dead in the snow without any of them knowing.

By the third hour of the night, I could not feel my feet anymore. Fenrir did not complain, but I could hear him groaning lowly with every step.

"Maybe you should turn," I suggest to him. My voice was shaking. "Surely, you'd be warmer."

"And leave you without company?" Fenrir said.

But even as stubborn as he was, he could not hold that conviction for long. By the fourth hour, he had turned and the large wolf tread beside me. He was easily three times as tall as I was, but even that big a beast was cold; ice covered the tips of his fur that shivered in the wind.

By the fifth hour, I had to sleep. My eyes would barely stay open, and I stumbled more than I walked. My heart was beating hard, but my body could not keep warm despite it; it felt as if even my bones were cold.  
The wolf kept nudging me whenever I stopped and I stumbled on with wobbly knees. We had left the mountainside, but now the wind was even harsher. It whipped across the land and almost blew me off my feet; snow drifted horizontally across our path.

My knees gave out beneath me. I dropped down, my knees and hands scraped across the stony ground. I could not see it, but my palms burned and felt wet. My shivering got even worse - bleeding in the freezing cold meant nothing good.  
The wolf stepped closer and nudged me again. My bloodied hands grabbed onto his fur - it was ice cold. _Channel him_ , I thought to myself but that thought seemed to travel so slow through my frozen body that by the time it arrived in my fingertips, nothing would happen.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to Fenrir. My lips broke as I opened them and a sharp pain shot through me. "I am so sorry..."

The wolf growled. My body sagged and I sank against him, my face buried in cool fur, as well. I felt the rumble of his growl through his entire body.

The ground shook. My tired mind could not understand why there was an earthquake now. It shook again. And again. It did not make any sense. The wolf was still growling; something else was rumbling high above us. I could neither lift my head nor even open my eyes.  
This was how I died.

* * *

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	16. The Queen in the Snow

**Sorry - again - for the wait (I was sick), but I can assure all those who were worried that OF COURSE the last chapter was not the end - I would never leave y'all like that ;)**

 **Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and most of all to those who reviewed! Enjoy the new chapter :)**

* * *

 **The Queen in the Snow**

* * *

It was warm around me. That was strange; I had always assumed that Hel would be cold and I certainly did not deserve to go to Valhalla. Freezing was no hero's death worthy of those hallowed halls.  
It was warm, though. I flexed my fingers - there was a woolen blanket around me and when I strained my ears, I could hear the cracking of a fire.

Wherever I went after death, I doubted that I would need blankets or fires to keep me warm. Which meant that I was probably not dead.  
I would have to open my eyes and see, but it was so comfortable lying under my blanket by the fire. This felt nice and easy.

The mattress below me dipped and the bed creaked. I was definitely not dead.  
I blinked, but the light around me was so blinding that I could not see anything. There was a small gasp of response, though.

"Milady?"

My hand shot out to grab a very human arm. Fenrir was alive and well enough to have transitioned back. I blinked again; slowly, his contours were taking shape before my eyes.

My throat was sore and my mouth dry, but I had to speak, anyway. "Where are we? What happened?"

Fenrir squeezed me back. "The Jotuns," he said. "They found us."

That brought me upright. I was slightly dizzy with the sudden change of position, but could not help it: lying unprotected in Jotun country was dangerous.  
I had talked a good deal about how we could make peace with the Frost Giants, but I was in no way sure we would succeed. This was no good position to be in.

"How long have you been awake?" I asked.

"I've been in this form for maybe an hour," he shrugged. "The wolf has pretty good stamina."

I pinched the bridge of my nose to get a handle on the dizziness. "And we've been here...?"

"Night has fallen again," Fenrir said. "So I'd say a day."

I brushed the hair out of my face. "Have you slept?" I barely waited for him to shake his head. "You should."

"With all due respect," Fenrir said. "I don't think I can sleep right now."

That was understandable, yet I still felt bad that he had stayed up while I had been sleeping so soundly.

I looked around the room. The walls were made out of a dense white substance; I had to see water dripping around the fireplace to realize that it was snow. It did not feel like snow around me - indeed, the air around us was cozily warm. There were no windows and I started to suspect that we were below ground.

Suddenly, the water drops started shivering. The walls and ground shook, much like it had before I passed out. Even though I had not realized it then, it must have been the steps of the Frost Giants.

"They said the queen wants to see you when you're awake," Fenrir said hurriedly. "They're probably coming for you."

He was right. The earth-quaking steps came ever closer and a heavy wooden door was pushed open. I had to force myself not to shrink away when the Jotun entered with his head bowed to fit through the door; his red eyes were blazing, anyway, and stood in stark contrast to the icy blue of his skin.

"Her majesty see you. Now," the giant announced in broken Asgardian. Instantly, I regretted that I did not speak the Jotun language - I supposed I had my parents to thank for that.

I waved for Fenrir to follow me, only for the Jotun not to move. "No servant," he said.

My first instinct was to argue. The thought of leaving Fenrir here made my stomach drop - both for myself and him, being apart was more dangerous than being together.  
But I would not get my will without a fight and a fight would not be a good precedent for any peace talk. I looked over to Fenrir and found him nodding quickly at me.

"Fine," I said. "But I want you to swear to me that I'll find him all right when I return."

"My queen vouches for his safety, and yours," the Jotun recited. My eyebrows shot up - he must have practiced that; so Skadi had seen this coming. I was not sure if that made me feel more or less safe. At least it sounded like she wanted to adhere to common etiquette.

My hand brushed along Fenrir's arm when I passed him. "Get some sleep," I advised again.

The Jotun did not say another word to me. Indeed, he ducked through the door again and trudged along the hallway without looking back. There were no windows in the hallway either, and the walls were still made off the dense snow, though there was the occasional stone in between.  
It was considerably cooler out here, though it was far from the icy climate that was present outside.

We climbed further and further up through the hallways. Every now and then, the ground would shake with the steps of someone other than my guide and I would get glimpses of other Jotuns moving through the halls.  
Suddenly, light broke. We had clearly reached ground-level. The windows shone as if they were made out of sheer ice - maybe they were. Either way, the light splintered and danced in all colours through the great hall we had arrived in. I stopped dead in my tracks to just take it in.

"Come on," my guide ground out.

White, glittering doors opened before us, so much higher than myself that I could not quite see where they ended. I could not watch too long though, because the doors opened to the throne room. And far back, on a throne almost as ridiculously high, sat the queen.

Queen Skadi wore a garment mixed off metals and pelts. A golden crown sparkled in her dark black hair, though the ridges in her skin formed an additional crown at the top of her forehead.  
This was not the place where Loki and I had seen King Laufey, but much as he had, Skadi was more lounging than sitting in her throne. Her elbow rested on the armrest and head was propped up on her fist.

My guard left me alone halfway between the great doors and the throne and I felt even smaller without him. My heart was pounding in my chest, but I was Eirlys of Asgard, daughter of Odin and Frigga, sister of Thor, and so I squared my shoulders and held my head high.

I had studied how to bow at the Jotun court, but right here and now I decided not do it. I was rightfully queen of Asgard and I could at the very least look Skadi in the eye.  
Well, more or less. I had to crane my neck to do it.

Skadi straightened when I stopped a few feet from her seat. Her red eyes narrowed at me. "Asgardian," she said and her voice rumbled through the hall. "You invaded my land."

In contrast to my guard, her Asgardian was excellent. I felt even worse for not speaking even a word in her language.

"I came to speak with you," I said. "And I owe you my gratitude, because without the help of you and yours, I and my companion would be dead."

"Yes," she said. "You would."

I inclinced my head slightly. "We appreciate it," I said. "When we took the portal, we did not know where we'd come out."

Her head dipped from one side to the other. "You did not come with the Bifrost."

"The Bifrost is not available to me," I said.

She started to laugh, a loud, chilling sound, that was echoed by the other Jotuns in the room. It made my skin crawl.  
"Has Odin's daughter finally been expelled?" she asked. "Have you betrayed him like you betrayed us?"

I raised my chin. This was exactly what I had feared - against all better judgement, I had hoped that they might have forgotten. Of course they had not.  
"Your father died at Loki's hand," I said. "As did mine."

The laughter stopped immediately. Skadi abandoned her offensively relaxed pose and leant forward with sparkling eyes.

"Odin is dead," I continued. "And Loki has taken his face and his throne. I am here because Asgard deserves better than that, all the Nine Realms do."

"We know only war from Asgard," she said.

"I know that," I said quickly and took a step towards her. "But I think it is time for a fresh start. If I can take back Asgard, I am more than willing to seek out peace with your realm."

Her lips pulled back into another smile. "So you want another war," she said. "You're like your father."

"In all the good ways," I said. "I know we haven't inspired trust in the past, but I am ready to change."

She hesitated. Her eyes travelled through the hall before they landed on me again. "We have learnt our lesson," Skadi said. "We stay as far from Asgard as the Norns allow us."

I nodded. If I were her, if these were my people, I would have said nothing different. Still, I could not let it stand - I had my own people waiting for a safe place to stay, and I had the whole of Asgard to safe, even if they did not know it yet.  
"As far as I know," I said. "The vault of Asgard still holds the Casket of Ancient Winters."

Mumbling erupted throughout the hall. Skadi jumped to her feet and I had to take an involuntary step back. "This is no joking matter, Asgardian."

"I am aware," I said.

Skadi's jaw clenched. For a moment, I feared that she might strike me dead right then and there. "Come with me," she ordered.

She lead me out of the throne room, her steps just as heavy as those of my earlier guard. Once back in the great hall, she took a different turn. Her way lead us through a - relatively - small door and up a steep staircase; I had to almost climb to make the steps. The stairs twisted on their way up, higher and higher.

It was decidedly cold, now, but luckily I had been so recuperated that my powers could keep me warm. Still, the climb made my heart pound and my breath come short.

We emerged in a wide, round tower room. Ice blue shelves reached further up than I could see and they were stacked, over and over with books. My lips parted in awe. This looked good - familiar, even; and the way that Skadi's fingers stroked over the edge of the shelves told me that I dealt with someone I could understand.

"This is a beautiful place," I said.

She hummed a dark, rumbling sound. "Beautiful," she mused. "Just like Jotunheim used to be."

Skadi waved me over and I stepped closer to her. Between the shelves, a high window opened up to a view of the landscape around us.  
From below, I would never have seen what the imposing structures really were: not landscapes, not mountains or rocks; but ruins. Buildings, towers, bridges, all of them destroyed.

"This is what the Bifrost did to us," she said. "But before, it was barely better. Asgard destroyed us, and it took our lifeforce with it."

"I am sorry," I said. "But-"

"You should have seen us before," Skadi continued.

Her large hand traced over the window glass and the scene changed before my eyes. The buildings resurrected in different shades of blue. Cobblestoned streets ran between them, intermittent with plaques of ice that sparkled in the sun.  
There was green, too. Under glass ceilings, they were no doubt growing goods - maybe vegetables, and fruits. This looked a thriving realm - not the realm of monsters, but rather Asgard's equal.

My fingers reached out to touch the vision before me, and it shattered immediately. The ruins returned and my heart clenched at the sight.

"You wield magic," I said, because all the other things that I wanted to say could not be put into words.

"All my family do," she said. "As I hear, the man we both call brother does, too."

I scoffed. "I don't think either of us call Loki brother, truly."

"He tried to destroy us," she said.

"I know," I said. I remembered that day just as well as she must. Truly, he had tried to destroy himself more than he wanted to destroy anyone else, but that was too complicated to explain and it also did not make any of the Jotuns suffering better.  
"In all fairness, your father tried to kill mine that night."

"My father was foolish," Skadi said.

"See," I said. "We have a lot of things in common."

Skadi turned sharply from the window. "I find it hard to believe that I would ever have anything in common with an Asgardian."

I pressed my eyes shut for a moment. Yes, I understood her mistrust. I understood that she wanted to protect her realm and her people, but I had my own people to protect, and this was the only chance I had. I could not give up so easily.

"We do," I said. "You love this realm, and I can see why. And I long for the days that I spent in my own realm, because I love it just as much. What we did to you is a great injustice, all of it. I want to make it right, and if I ever am in a position where I can, I will. But right now, I need your help to get there. I have an army, and a whole people that spent their lives in slavery, waiting in Svartalfheim and without hope, unless you help us. So I beg you for your help."

She faced me again. Her red eyes had narrowed at me. "You have freed the slaves?" she asked. "You must be mad."

"Maybe!" I exclaimed. "I'm mad enough to believe I can take my throne back and make it all right. You'll get your casket back, I swear it - and you can return Jotunheim to what it once was. We'll have peace, and trade. I want to see your city rebuilt. Just help me."

Skadi's eyes travelled from me back to the window. She would see the ruins again; meanwhile, my heart pounded harder than when I had to climb the stairs.  
Without looking back to me, she asked, "What do you need?"

"To bring my people here," I said. "They're good workers and if you give them the chance, they support themselves."  
As she kept nodding, I continued, "And support for my army, if you can offer it. You help me fight, we'll have a better chance to take Loki down. He's not going to give up Asgard without a fight."

Her eyes fixed on me again. "You must hate him very much," she said.

"Not at all," I said. "But there are things that I love more."

She bowed her head to me. "Fine, Asgardian," she said. "We have a deal."

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	17. Burn

**Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and most of all to those who reviewed!**

 **(Also, YES, I miss Loki, too. We won't miss him forever, okay? I promise ;) )**

* * *

 **Burn**

* * *

Back in Svartalfheim, Sif and all the others were probably desperately waiting for our return. Despite that, Fenrir and I could not bring ourselves to leave just yet.  
Fenrir deserved a few days of rest - and he needed them, too. While I had slept, he had stayed awake at my side, even though he had been tired, exhausted, and way too cold. I told him that there were still details to negotiate, and he gratefully returned to sleep without asking further questions.  
I, on the other hand, could not get enough of the tower library Skadi had introduced me to.

It took a bit of effort to find books that I could understand. Even as I started to learn the first few words of spoken Jotun, I had no hope of reading anything in their language for years to come.  
Despite that obstacle, there was plenty to choose from. The books stacked higher than my eyes could reach. They had a system that had to function with magic, which called the book you picked down from its hiding place. The first time my chosen copy had floated down to me, my mouth had dropped open.

Skadi kept dropping by, as if to check on me. Maybe she was - I wondered how I would feel if she freely roamed the Asgardian library. She never said a word, though.

If we were to talk, it was I who had to initiate conversation, which was contrary to everything I liked to do. Back when the world had still been right, I had done my very best to just blend in at parties and not talk to anyone.

"I wondered," I said one day at dinner. "If someone could accompany us back to the portal. Last time illustrated that we can't do this on our own."

Skadi stirred in her bowl of stew and without looking up, said, "Surely you also need people to accompany your army when you return."

"That would be ideal," I acknowledged.

She grunted her assent.  
My stomach turned, but I pushed the next spoon of stew into my mouth, anyway. In a way, she very much reminded me of Loki. The Loki from my childhood, who had wanted nothing to do with me. Thing was, I did not think that I could win Skadi's friendship quite as easily as I had his.

"I'm really grateful," I made another effort. "That you let me use the library. It's wonderful, it easily rivals Asgard's collection."

She huffed. "Asgard stole from most of the collections around the Nine Realms, I am not surprised that it would surpass ours," Skadi said.

"I didn't say that."

She froze with her spoon halfway between the bowl and her mouth, which was already a good bit over my head.

"Indeed, I would require centuries to make a judgement," I continued. "I likely wouldn't live long enough."

Skadi looked me up and down - though mostly down, if we were honest - and then she lowered her spoon back into the bowl. "You flatter us," she said. "And I thought Loki was supposed to be the silvertongue."

I had to crack a smile. "Maybe I picked a few things up over the years."

She leant forward so she could look me in the eye. "Did you know he gets it from our mother?"

I did not. She went into a lengthy description of her mother, who she had lost long ago - the pang in my chest must have shown on my face, because before I knew it, she had asked and I was talking about my own mother, too.  
What would she think if she could see more right now? It was hard to say. As it sounded, Skadi believed that her mother would be just as scandalized.

"She was very proud of who we were," Skadi said. "All - you know who we are, make your father proud-"

"That sounds very familiar," I said. "Were you ever told to marry?"

"Oh," Skadi rasped. "More times than I can count."

We both laughed. Skadi's voice echoed through the hall and made heads turn. It felt glorious - and it proved what I had always said to anyone who had dared suggest otherwise, Loki first and foremost: that the Jotuns were not monsters; that we were more similar than we cared to admit.

Six days after we had arrived, Fenrir and I finally packed to make our way back. Skadi had offered us a guard by the name of Brimir. He was huge, even by Jotun standards, but ultimately friendly; I suspected that she might have given us one of her strongest, but not one of her brightest.

"I'll send a whole brigade after you," Skadi promised. "How long will you need to get your army moving?"

"A week from now," Fenrir said before I could even open my mouth. I raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, we should move fast," he explained. "But then, we need to pack everyone up, all the tents and the provisions-"

"You're right," I interrupted. Skadi was smirking, but that did not deter me. "You heard it."

"All right then," she said.

While Fenrir and I put on the warming cloaks again, Skadi waved for one of her servants. She took what he handed to her and turned back to me. When I looked closer, I found it was a book.

"You'll be busy, no doubt," Skadi said. "But given what you told me about your shapeshifters, who knows if you might need it."

My eyebrows pulled together, but I took the book from her, anyway. She smiled still, and I was sure that there was something to be discovered here - it was also the kind of smile that warned me to be careful.

"I thank you," I said slowly. "For this generous gift."

Skadi rolled her eyes at me. "All that etiquette," she scoffed. "Just read it and tell me what you think."

Fenrir seemed taken aback, but I had to laugh. This was the kind of relationship I wanted to have with the Jotun crown: a friendship. If only I could get rid of the lasting feeling that we had to be very careful - I could not say if it was a reasonable feeling or the lasting prejudice of my childhood.

Fenrir shouldered our belongings and we started our hike. My stomach clenched when we stepped outside and the icy cold wind hit us in the face. The last time we had been out here, we had almost died - Brimir stomping along before us was only a slight consolation.  
At the very least, his large steps shoveled away the snow in front of us, so we did not sink into the deep snow as we had days ago.

"Why did she give you that book?" Fenrir whispered to me, though I was not sure if Brimir could even understand us.

I raised my shoulders up. "I can't wait to find out," I said.

"You don't think it's anything dangerous, do you?" he asked.

"What?" I asked. "You think she's trying to kill me by heavy pages and leather covers?"

No, there was no doubt in my mind that she had given me a magic book - the only question was if I should try anything that this book suggested. Maybe I would first see if there were any pages that had been torn out.

"If you are sure," Fenrir said. "I trust you are right, Milady."

I did not know what I had done to deserve such trust - as of now, every plan I had made had thrown us into trouble far beyond what I had considered. Trust in my judgement should be the last thing that Fenrir would proclaim.

"I'll be careful," I promised him.

He did not say anything, but he walked a little straighter, as if a heavy weight was taken from his shoulders. I wondered how lightly he would walk when he did not have to trod after me anymore.

Maybe as lightly as Brimir, who climbed up the mountainside as if it was nothing and looked positively cheerful as he did it. At least he enjoyed our hike. For me - and I wagered for Fenrir, too - it was completely unenjoyable. The snow seeped into our shoes before long and the steep mountains made my heart pump and my lungs hurt.

But we were going at a faster pace than we had days before and I was not once afraid that we might freeze again. Indeed, I soon began to recognize the landscape around me as that where we had emerged.

The sun was setting by the time we reached the portal. Brimir did not seem the first bit tired; indeed, he was just as cheerful as when we had set out.  
I used my very broken attempts at the Jotun language and thanked him - he looked even happier after that. I wished that I understood what he responded, but I had no chance. All I got was grumbling.  
Fenrir and I smiled and nodded and waved him goodbye as we crossed back into the crevice that we had come from.

The heat hit us even harder than the cold. Indeed, the moment that we stepped out into Svartalfheim's desert, I wished that I could turn around and go back to the snow. Fenrir stripped the coat of as fast as he could, but even so, he was drenched in sweat by the time he got it off.

"I may be imagining things," he said while he stuffed the coats into our bags. "But did it get warmer while we were away?"

I could not prove it, but it certainly felt like it. Svartalfheim had always been too hot for comfort, but this was way worse. We had just one bottle of water each, because the hike down to the camp was not far, but I could already foresee that it would not be enough.

The sun was burning down on us and it seemed the sand had gotten even blacker, as if it had actually been burnt. The heat seeped through the soles of my shoes as much as the cold had before.

"Maybe we came here before summer had arrived," Fenrir suggested.

"Let's just hope it's not only spring," I said.

Fenrir huffed and then cursed because he slipped in the sand and had to catch himself with his bare hands. He pulled them up immediately, but they were already bright red.

"We'll have to watch the children," he said as he studied the almost-burns. "Or they'll never make it back to the Jotun palace."

"Everyone will make it to the Jotun palace," I said. "We've all made it this far."

Fenrir nodded his assent, but he was still shaking his hands as he did it. We really did have to be careful. I wondered how the people had fared while we had been away.  
Had Sif managed their resources right? Had she kept up their morale? Had they sought out protection from the heat or had they all burnt to a crisp by now?

It was hard to say whether it was morning or evening here - days in Svartalfheim had always been longer than we were used to, but now the sun stood high above us and did not seem to move in the slightest.

We came across the edge above our camp. I had expected it to be bristling with life - or alternatively completely still so they would not burn - but what I saw was completely different.  
They were already almost packed up. Carts were lined up at the edge of the camp and only half the tents were still erect. The constructions were we had grown our crops had been torn down.

"Are we late, milady?" Fenrir asked.

"Can't be," I said. "Unless we lost time in the portal..."

He looked positively terrified. "Could we have?"

I had never lost time in a portal before. There were vague legends of people getting stuck in collapsing portals and loosing years, if not decades of their life. I honestly doubted that this had happened to us, though.

"I bet Sif just could not wait for it," I said. "I'm going to kill her."

"Uh," Fenrir made, but I did not wait for him to disagree.

We more slid than walked down the hill; I was always on the verge of slipping and falling, but it did not matter to me. If I fell and my skin turned bright red from the burns, at least my outside would match my inside.  
If Sif really had just decided to up and leave, I would actually kill her. How dare she do this when I had given clear instructions? How dare she do this to the one who she knew was her queen?  
What was the plan, anyway? Sif did not have a plan the last time we had spoken; indeed, she had thought all of my efforts to be pointless.

"Milady," Fenrir rasped out when we reached the edge of the camp. "Maybe you shouldn't kill her-"

"Or maybe I should," I shot back.

The camp was not as lifeless as it had looked from above. People stepped out from behind poles and out of tents when they heard us. A lot of them seemed to light up when the saw me. Before long, Fenrir and I were followed by a large crowd. Children were jumping around us.

As we were approaching the carts, the crowd turned from shapeshifters to soldiers. They looked less thrilled to see me, though the generally saluted when I passed them.

I spotted Sif first, the dark head of hair was unmistakable. Fandral was standing beside her and beside him, larger and broader than any other person around-

"Thor?"

* * *

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	18. My Brother's Keeper

**Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and most of all to the people who reviewed! I hope y'all enjoy the new chapter!**

* * *

 **My Brother's Keeper**

* * *

My brother turned around to face me. Maybe it was because I had not seen him for so very long, but he appeared to be even taller and broader than in the past. His blonde hair hang unto his shoulders. There was a cut on his cheek that seemed to be slowly healing over. Our mother would have thrown a fit if she had seen him like this.  
His eyes widened when he saw me and a large smile spread over his face. Before I knew it, Thor had crossed the distance between us and pulled me into a big hug that made my ribs crack.

Sif had tried to shift away, but I had not forgotten about her. I had seen the movement over Thor's shoulder and the moment he let me go, I cut off her path.  
"I said a week!" I said. "What are you doing, packing up like this?"

"Sister!" Thor interrupted. "Won't you greet me?"

I held my hand up to interrupt him. "Meeting in the middle of a situation is our thing, right?"

The last time we had seen each other after months apart, it had been on Midgard and we had both just found out that Loki was still alive. I had been trying to pack together a terrible Parisian apartment and he had been trying to conceal that he was a Norse god with a cape and a hammer. Admittedly, that situation had been a lot messier than this one.

"Uh, milady?" Fenrir had stepped forward. His gaze switched between Thor and I and his eyebrows had pulled tightly together.

As he stood there now, I wondered if I had ever told him about Thor. I might not have - but who did not know about Thor, the god of thunder, and his almighty hammer? Even the Midgardians had known about him.

"This is my brother," I explained.

If anything, Fenrir looked even more confused. " _The_ brother?" he asked.

"No!" I said quickly. "No, not that brother, my other brother, my real brother."

Thor puffed out his chest. "Loki is our real brother!"

I groaned. "Let's not make this complicated."

"Oh, complicated?" Sif piped up. "Complicated is what you call that-"

It was just the one thing that sent me over the edge. My fingers balled into a fist and Sif fell silent in the middle of her sentence. Her lips continued moving before she realized that no sound was coming out anymore. Seeing her mouth open and close like that of a fish was deeply satisfying.

"Be happy I haven't sewn your lips shut," I said when her face contorted in anger.

She looked as if he she was close to stomping he foot. Honestly, this was the best thing I had done since Loki and I had turned her hair black. He would have appreciated it.

"The Lady Sif and I," Thor explained. "Were going to bring these people to safety."

A gust of wind swept through the camp and blew the dark sand into our faces. We would find that stuff in all our belongings for years to come.

"Ah," I said. "Whereto, if I may ask?"

He opened and closed his mouth much like Sif did, even without the magic.

"Milady!" Embla stepped out of the crowd that had assembled behind us. "They were going back to Vanaheim."

Maybe the next flick of my wrist would snap Sif's neck. She would have deserved it. Thor, unfortunately, was not that easy to kill, but I was close to trying, anyway.  
How dare they? Not only that it was against my orders, but it was against all morality, too.

I pushed the anger down as hard as I could, so I could speak with a steady voice. "Well, you can turn the carts around," I announced. "We're going to Jotunheim."

"Jothunheim?" Thor asked. "Sister-"

"I don't want to hear it," I told him. "Everybody, get to work!"

I had to physically hold Fenrir back so he did not jump into action, himself. Given how tired I felt, I did not want him working in the heat - and he would certainly not stop before nothing was left to be done.  
Thor mostly stood around and stared, as if he could not believe what had happened. I should have been happier to see him; for months, I had wondered what my brother was up to and if he was well. Now that he stood before me, a million other things were more important than his well being.

There were a hundred questions to be answered and more coats to enchant: Skadi had promised me that housing for my people would be easily kept warm, as they did the same thing for their own houses, but until we got there we had to keep warm. Fenrir and I both knew how difficult that was.

The only good thing about the heat was that the sweat dried immediately on your skin. Though by the end of the day, my skin was covered in a thin salty crust that made me feel as if I was cracking.  
My tent had been already packed up and instead, we just had a few posts and drapes spun between them. Sand was everywhere, but it was better than sitting in the bare sun. Indeed, night had not yet fallen despite the hours that passed.

"Sif still can't talk."

Thor had crossed his arms in front of his chest. I glanced up at him in between sorting my dresses into a large chest. "I'll take care of it," I said. If it had been up to me, she would not have spoken for at least a week. Maybe forever.

"We only meant well," he continued.

"You would have brought them back to their captors," I said.

"There was nowhere else to go!"

I raised my eyebrows at him. "I told her a week," I told him. "I returned on time. And even if I didn't - any other option would have been better! Marching on Asgard _now_ would have been better."

Thor's eyebrows pulled together. "Why would we march on Asgard?"

My stomach dropped. They had not told him. I put the dress I was holding down and sat back on my heels. Could Sif not at least have told him that?

"What?" Thor asked. "What happened?"

I licked my lips. "Brother, I am very sorry-"

"Tell me," he demanded.

"Father is dead." Thor's face fell and he started shaking his head, but I could not bear to stop now that I had started. "It was Loki. He's still alive, so that's a bit of good news, I guess. But he killed Odin and he's been pretending to be him ever since."

Thor had to reach out to one of the poles to steady himself. "So when I left-"

"That was Loki already," I said. "I just so escaped."

He shook his head again. I wanted to run and hug him, but felt rooted to my spot. Silence hang heavy between us while I wondered if there would have been a more sensitive way to break the news. I could not think of a nicer way to say such things, though.

Thor finally let go of the pole. "That makes sense," he said. "I've seen visions of chaos in the Nine Realms."

"Well, they're spot on," I said. "Loki's not been doing much aside from partying, and things are deteriorating."

"That doesn't sound like him," Thor said.

I shrugged. I had given up trying to understand what Loki did; he would have some kind of plan, but none of us could hope to figure it out before time. Or maybe he had given up having plans. Or maybe _that_ was the plan. It did not matter, either way.

"Are you sure about Father?"

"As sure as I can be," I said.

Thor nodded slowly. "I will avenge him."

Sure he would. It was another one of those endless feuds between the two that always ended in Thor trying to redeem Loki and Loki pretending to be redeemed.  
As children, Thor had wanted to make him "a real man", today he wanted to make him "good". Both goals were as elusive as they were useless.

"You can have your revenge when I make my way to Asgard," I offered.

"No," Thor said. "I can't wait that long."

I sighed. "Listen, it may not seem like it, but I do have a strategy-"

"Right," he said. Thor knelt down in front of me and laid his hand on my shoulder. It was so heavy that I swayed slightly under his touch. "Sister, I will take care of the Nine Realms while you take care of your people. And when you are ready, we'll march on Asgard together, and you'll take your throne."

"My throne?" I repeated.

"Of course," he said. "Just like I said it would be."

I inclined my head. My first impulse was to say thank you, but that was ridiculous. Was I a queen or not?  
"Thor," I asked when he got up again. "Why are you here?"

He grinned almost boyishly and scratched his head. "I was looking for you."

He was usually not this elusive. It struck me as particularly odd, but I did not want to pressure him - especially since I had more important business to attend to.  
Only later did I realize that he could not possibly have been looking for me. As far as he had known, I was still in Asgard.

"Yes," I said. "But why?"

"As I said. I saw visions."

I raised an eyebrow. "You've never been clairvoyant," I said.

He shifted in his stance. "I sought the visions out," he said. "I had a bad feeling."

At leas that he had not been wrong about.

The moment Sif had her speech back, she started to complain. About the mean-spiritedness of my "witchcraft", about the heat, about her failed plan, about Thor leaving, and - most importantly - about the fact that she would not be accompanying us to Jotunheim.  
I had made my decision quickly: I would much rather have her in enemy territory than close to me. I would never be able to leave my people alone again if she was in the same realm; and given that Thor was going to actively seek out trouble, I knew I might have to leave them alone again.

She was outraged, but I did not waver. Thor did not want to take her along, either: he claimed that he did not want to put her in undue danger and she better served elsewhere, but I suspected that he might harbour some anger after all. Who knew what she had told him?  
Fandral was quick to declare that he would accompany her, but only after he made an effort to apologize to me. I did not take apologies from slave traders, though.

"You should kill them," Fenrir told me darkly as we watched them pack up.

I scoffed. "You told me not to," I reminded him.

"I did not know then," he said.

I grunted in response. The need for vengeance burned inside me as well, but now was not the time and Sif was not the right person. It did not matter if she died or not, it would not change a thing. For a real change, Kvass would be my target or even better: King Freyr himself.  
But I was my father's daughter and knew that outright war against Vanaheim would be a political disaster. We would never get the revenge we wanted; we would have to make do with just being happy.

"Fine," Fenrir said. "But if I meet her alone in a dark alley-"

"You have my blessing," I said and patted him on the shoulder.

Thor stomped over to us and the sand rose in a dark cloud behind him. He had thrown a cape over his shoulders, which made me sweat just looking at him, and had shouldered his hammer. The grim look on his face was the kind he used to wear before riding into battle.  
It reminded me of times long past; I almost expected Loki to come striding up behind him in an equally stern mood. It felt like a punch to the gut to realize that I would never see that scene again.

"Sister!" Thor bellowed. "I will be off!"

Before I knew it, tears had welled up in my eyes. I knew he could not possibly come with us to Jotunheim, but letting go now was almost too much to bear.  
Thor pulled me into a big hug and I clung to him as best I could.

"You have to look out for yourself," I said.

Thor chuckled. "I always do."

I pulled back and shook my head at him. "You never do," I said.

He grinned. "If you find the time," he said. "You should visit Midgard. Our friend Stark will probably need you."

"Oh," I said. Could he not have said so before? "What did he do?"

Thor shrugged. "Difficult to describe," he said. He scratched his head behind his ear and then patted the hammer over his shoulder as if to make sure it was still there. "But I feel he could need a friend."

"Great," I said. "I need some of those."

Thor craned his neck to look up at the sky. "It would be easier if Heimdall was available," he said.

"How are you going to leave?" I asked.

"Sif is taking me along," he said. "She's sneaking out of this camp right now."

That was great. It was exactly the kind of exit she deserved. "Then you better hurry," I said and hugged him one more time. "And I see you on the battlefield."

He grinned even broader, then. He disentangled from me and clapped Fenrir on the back, who swayed in his spot. "You look after her!"

"Yes, milord," Fenrir stuttered out.

We watched together as Thor stomped away. By the time he was out of the camp, we could not see him anymore because the black dust rose wherever he walked and would not settle down.

"Well," I said. "I suppose we should be on our way, then."

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	19. Fresh Start

**Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and most of all those who reviewed. I hope y'all enjoy the new chapter :)**

* * *

 **Fresh Start**

* * *

We camped one last time in Svartalfheim right before the portal. The shapeshifters chattered away freely, and told stories of the endless ice. The children already tried to build snowmen out of the black sand. Embla unpacked and packed her medical equipment - or what she called such - several times.

The Vanir soldiers looked a lot more grim. They themselves had likely never fought the Jotuns; much like me, they were too young to remember the last war. They would have heard the stories, though, and met the veterans. It was no wonder that they were not glad to go to Jotunheim.  
It was for them that I was worried the most. My shapeshifters would, if in doubt, always adapt. They had learnt to be almost invisible. Soldiers tended to be more confrontational.

I had dug Skadi's book out of my belongings, but the letters swam before my eyes. What if Sif's worry had been right? What if we passed the portal and an army was waiting to slaughter us? What if it was all a trick?  
Or what if, once we had settled and trusted them, they attacked us? What if I actually went to see Tony and they took advantage of my absence?

I shook my head to clear my vision and focus on the text again. I had promised Skadi I would look into it, but had not even opened it until now. It did not do any good; after trying for another five minutes, I had to finally give up.

It seemed like a good idea to get some rest early that evening, but sleep would not come to me. Instead, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling of my makeshift tent and pondered the same questions I had pondered all day. When I got up in the morning, I felt even more tired than before.

Children were already running outside. Their screeches and laughter usually cheered me up, but that morning, it hurt my ears. I sat at the breakfast table and stared into my stew and massaged my temples.

Fenrir sat down heavily across from me. "You still sure?" he asked.

I had never been sure. "Of course," I said. He snorted and it pulled a smile from me. "We'll be fine."

He nodded. "I know," he said.

When we set out, my heart was beating so violently that I could feel it in my throat, and it made me sick. I had probably turned pale, but I raised my chin and tried to appear confident. Fenrir, next to me, turned into his wolf form to cross. I could hear the mumbling of my soldiers rise, but I was thankful: I felt infinitely better seeing the large wolf stride in front of me.

There was no army waiting for us. Relief flooded through me and I felt terrible for it- so much for doing the best thing for my people. At the very least, I had not been honest with them. I wondered what my father would have said to all this.

Only Skadi and a handful of warriors were waiting for us. One of them was Brimir, who had brought us home before.

"I wasn't sure you would come!" Skadi called to me while Fenrir bounded past her into the snow.

"I wasn't, either!"

She grinned a humongous grin that might have been scary if her eyes had not sparkled with sheer joy. In that moment, as the cold harsh wind of Jotunheim blew into my face, there was no doubt in my mind anymore.  
We had gone to the right place.

An army moved a lot slower than just two people with a Jotun guide - and families with their children, goods and chattels moved even slower.

It was the task of the few shapeshifters who started to learn magic as well as the few magic wielders Skadi had offered us to keep them all warm; I could feel the strain on myself. In theory, this should have been an easy feat: there were hundreds of people who could potentially feed into the magic. They did not though, or at least not yet: it was a matter I intended to change, and fast, if only to ease my mind if I had to leave.

The children were playing in the snow. Every so often I could see the snowballs whizzing past me.  
They, at least, could easily be taught. I remembered the sheer joy of producing my first magic and the thought of sharing that joy made me almost giddy.

The ground shook as Skadi tread to my side. A guard followed close behind her, but I honestly did not know what she needed him for: out here, the queen seemed like she was one with the land. No one could possibly harm her.

"You seem stressed," she said.

"Wouldn't you be?" I asked.

Skadi grunted her assent. "I wasn't sure that you would make it on time. A week was quite ambitious."

"Well, we did run into some complications," I said. To be fair, we would have done worse without the complications - Sif having already packed up had served us well. "You don't have to worry about it."

We took a few steps in silence, but apparently my explanation was not enough for her. "I welcome you and your people, I do not welcome any trouble-"

"Which is why I kept the trouble far away from you," I said. "I promise."

She grunted again, but walked along with me in silence. I had to take about five times the steps she took. The longer the silence stretched, the worse I felt.  
There really was no reason not to trust her now, when we had both established that we were trustworthy.

"My brother visited the camp," I offered.

"Loki?" she asked.

"Thor."

A terrible sound escaped through her teeth. "If he comes here..."

She did not have to complete the sentence for me to understand. "Right," I said. "He won't."

"He better not," she said. "Asgardians are not welcome here."

A smile tugged at my lips. "I am Asgardian," I said.

Skadi huffed. "Barely."

By now, I felt foolish for ever doubting her sincerety - or my good judgement. Skadi and I looked very different on the outside, but we were truly very similar.

"There is room in the barracks for your soldiers," Skadi explained as our large train of people started moving again. "And we readied a group of houses for the slaves."

"Not slaves," I said.

Skadi waved my words away, which due to the largeness of her hand created a wind that ruffled my hair. "We expect them to care for themselves within half a year," she said. "We're charitable, but we can barely feed ourselves, so-"

"That's fine," I said quickly. "They know how to take care of themselves."

It turned out I was absolutely right. On the second day, Fenrir had found a group of builders that were ready to inspect the houses Skadi offered - they were in a disastrous condition, but the men were confident. By the third day, they knew were there was wood to be found and how to obtain metal for screws and bolts and tools. They explained a lot of things to me about how to make ruins into liveable homes and I came to understand that it was really I who did not know to take care of herself.

Luckily, I did not have to. The queen of Asgard, Skadi assured me, could always count on a room in her palace. I told her that I would join my people as quickly as possible, but hoped that it would never come to that.  
Jotunheim was beautiful - even though it would likely be much more beautiful once it was given back its life source - but the longer I stayed, the less satisfied I became.

It was not home. It was not Asgard. All this jumping across the worlds only made me miss home more. I just hoped it would still be the same when I finally got back to it.

In the meantime, all I had were feeble plans. Skadi assessed that she would need months to assemble an army and properly equip it. All I had in the meantime was to sit in the library and watch life go on below me. I watched the children of shapeshifters play in the snow - sometimes even throwing the balls at Jotun children, too.  
I wondered if in half a year - or a year, or even longer - the shapeshifters would want to leave this place. These children would start learning here, they would form friendships; others would likely be even born here. Would the parents willingly make their children leave their home?

The more days passed with me sitting up there and them living below, the worse I felt. The book that Skadi had given me still sat unread on my nightstand. My heart grew heavy when I saw Fenrir cross the street with his friends or relatives. He seemed at ease, happy even. They all finally felt safe.  
Only I felt terribly alone.

I started meditating. My mind tried to reach for a familiar presence - Heimdall, or Thor - but I did not even get a hint of them. My heart longed for Loki, and he would surely be more easily reached, but talking to him would be the worst possible idea.

Another idea spooked through my head. Thor had recommended that I might go see our friends on earth. He had made it sound like they might need me, but it seemed rather the other way around. I could imagine only very few things that I would rather do than go see Tony Stark and have him make me laugh.  
Just how to get there? Midgard was worlds away and the Bifrost was not at my disposal anymore. I did not dare ask Skadi about portals, either - what would she think if I up and left after not even a month in her realm?

"You look lost," Embla commented one day when we were inspecting the greenhouses for herbs.

My stomach twisted, but I kept my face blank. "What do you mean?"

She smiled a smile that lacked significantly in teeth. "You are not happy here."

I pretended to very closely look at a bed of sage. "This is not about being happy."

"Maybe it should be," she said. "How can a queen lead a people to happiness if she herself isn't happy?"

"Through sacrifice," I said and felt as if my parents were talking through me. "And devotion to what is right."

"Mhm," she made. "Has my queen considered that she might not know what is right?"

I groaned. There was nothing I did more than consider that I might not be right. Indeed, most of the time I thought that I was wrong.

"It is no good," Embla continued, "To sit and worry. And when there's nothing else to do, one should always seek joy."

"Joy," I sighed and cracked a smile at her. "What is that?"

She tutted and swatted at my hand when I reached to touch a sprout of basil. "All the more reason to seek it out," she said.

Maybe she did have a point, but all my earlier concerns still held.  
The longer I waited, though, the more those concerns seemed miniscule. The soldiers were busy training and drinking and got along splendidly with the Jotun recruits. Fenrir would easily be able to watch the shapeshifters if I was gone for a week - or maybe two, I knew how Tony hated to be rushed.  
And Skadi? She would certainly understand the concept of a diplomatic visit. Maybe I did not owe her an explanation at all.

I still could not reach anyone from home, though. Heimdall would have been my first choice by now; not because he could open the Bifrost, for he could not anymore. Only he would surely have known his way around the portals between the Nine Realms. Besides, I could always use his words of wisdom.  
I meditated again and again, but all it served to do was to break all the vases around me; my magic tended to lash out when I got frustrated, and if the magic did not, my hands did. At least those vases were made out of ice, which was not hard to come by around here.

I would rather had Thor known where I was going. I did not know if I dared go without him ready to help me.  
I only had to get through to Tony, though. That could not be so hard - chances were, he would have (mechanical) eyes on me the moment I set foot on his realm. From then on, I would be fine; and the longer I thought of this scenario, the more excited I got. It seemed too good to be true.

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	20. The Pale Blue Dot

**Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and most of all to those who reviewed!  
I hope y'all had a nice and peaceful Christmas (or just nice and peaceful days if you don't celebrate). Enjoy the new chapter!**

* * *

 **The Pale Blue Dot**

* * *

He came to me in my sleep. Perhaps this seemed safest to him - it did seem safest to me when I thought of it afterwards. At any other time it was difficult to catch me alone.  
We were in the gardens surrounding Asgard's palace, close to the spot where we had left for Jotunheim all those years ago.

Loki set on a bench that was formed between a set of bushes and looked very peaceful. For a moment, I thought it was a real dream and my heart soared at the prospect.  
Then his eyebrows rose and his eyes narrowed and things looked all too much like reality. This was not a dream.

"I thought we weren't talking anymore," I said.

He shrugged. "I thought we long since gave up on that."

My lips twitched. "I didn't know you still dreamt of me," I added.

His head tilted just a little bit. "Likewise," he said.

I sat down next to him. The garden was empty and quiet and I felt my breath leave me in a deep sigh. This felt a lot better than the last few days; my heart clenched at the thought of having to go back. I would much rather stay.  
Perhaps if I just stayed silent, we could remain here in peace and all would be well.

Loki's fingers found the straps of my dress and played across my shoulders. Goosebumps erupted on my skin and just for a moment, I allowed myself to fall into the feeling.  
It did not last long, though. The longer we sat, the more my stomach knotted. I could not stop myself from fretting.

"Why have you called me here?" I finally asked.

His fingers stilled on my skin. "Do I need a reason?" he asked.

"No," I said. "But you have one."

As a young girl, I might have been easily fooled by his niceties, but those times had long since past. Now I knew that Loki rarely did things without reason.

"Come on," I said when he remained silent. "Out with it."

He pulled back his hand and shifted back in his seat. My skin felt cold without his touch. "Have you seen Thor lately?"

I took a moment to swallow. "Are you planning for a family reunion?"

He rolled his eyes at me. "Have you?" he insisted.

"Maybe I have," I said. Loki's fingers tightened on the edge of bench and I took mercy on him. "He wasn't heading to Asgard, so why do you care?"

He sat up suddenly. "So he has left Midgard."

I followed his movement. "Why?" I asked. "Loki, seriously, why are you asking me this?"

His stance shifted suddenly. He crossed his fingers behind his head and hummed nonchalantly. "I would have just thought that with the state of Midgard..."

I felt the muscles in my shoulders tense. "You're just trying to lure me away," I said.

"Lure you away?" Loki said with wide eyes. "For all I know, you're already there."

I sneered. "You know exactly where I am," I shot back. "Let's not play dumb."

He sat up and all pretended joyfulness faded from his features. "Let's not," he agreed. "Why did you pick Jotunheim over Midgard? And where is Thor?"

I squared my shoulders. "Why are you asking me both those things in one breath?"

He leant forward. "Tell me your reason."

"Tell me the truth!"

He would not, but that did not change anything. It did not change that I wanted to hit him as much as I wanted to kiss him.  
Oh, I really wanted to kiss him and for a moment, I thought I might do it and pretend after that it had all really been a dream.  
I did not do it. Afterwards, I regretted it a little bit. Maybe I wanted him to do it first or maybe I did not want it at all - I was not entirely sure what was supposed to become of us.

"I'm in Jotunheim," I said. "Because I know that you won't dare go there."  
There might have been other reasons, but this was the only one that he needed to know.

Loki glared at me. "I hope you keep looking behind your back," he said.

"There's always a Frost Giant," I said. "No one else would dare approach."

His jaw clenched and the edges of the garden started to flicker. He was leaving the dream. My heart screamed to hold onto him a little tighter.  
Instead, I raised my chin and held his gaze.

"I'm sure I'll see you soon," I said.

"Don't bet on it," Loki answered through gritted teeth.

"Come now," I said. My fingers stroked over the back of his hand. There almost was not anything to touch. "Let's not play dumb."

He looked as if he might say it, and I had the words already on my lips - _I love you, too_. He did not say it.  
Instead, the dream faded completely and my eyes were left with nothing but the icy ceiling of my Jotun chamber.

I hated that Loki could bait me so, but after the way he had talked about Thor and Midgard, my conviction to visit Tony was more firm than ever. Maybe he could really need my help.  
Loki might have a reason to send me there, but I did not fear him coming after me. He would not dare set foot on either Jotunheim or Midgard. If he thought that there was danger on Midgard, it was all the more reason to come to Tony's help.

It was also time to finally face the heat. I approached Skadi at the dinner the next day and announced my plans as if I had never doubted them. She took it about as enthusiastically as I had expected.

"Who will care for your people, then?" she demanded.

"I expect they will care for themselves," I said.

She huffed and the motion blew an icy wind through the hall. "And your soldiers?"

I raised an eyebrow. "They train with your warriors, anyway," I said. "I don't see why that would be any different in my absence."

Her eyes glared even more red than usual. It took all of my strength to square my shoulders and not bow down to her; in my mind, I recited: _I am Eirlys, Queen of Asgard, Allmother, Protector of all the Nine Realms, Saviour of the Shapeshifters_. Who was the queen of Jotunheim in comparison to me?

"I didn't think you would abandon them so quickly-"

"I am not abandoning anyone!" I interrupted. "I am coming back."

She did not say it, but I could see it in her eyes - it was Fenrir, much later that night, who first asked the question.

He had barged into my sitting room, only to immediately apologize for the interruption - he obviously kept switching between anger and deference, and it was dizzying to watch.

"What if you're not coming back?"

"I am coming back," I said.

For a moment, his mouth moved without a sound coming out. Then, finally, he erupted. "We almost died when we came here!"

"Skadi will send Brimir with me to the portal," I said. "It is not far from here."

"And on Midgard? At least let me come with you!" At my raised eyebrow, he hastily added, "Milady!"

I sighed heavily. "How will you help me, Fenrir of the Shapeshifters?" I asked. "Who you have lived all your life in one place, and never set foot outside?"  
His head bowed and his gaze fell to the floor. "I have been to Midgard before," I continued. "I know the Midgardians and their protectors. They are my friends. So tell me, how will I be safer with you?"

He did not have an answer to that. I hated being harsh, but maybe that made it a little easier. There would hopefully be times when we would not camp around the Nine Realms, but return to Asgard. At last then, Fenrir would not be my most trusted adviser; he could not be. It was best if we both got used to it, sooner rather than later.

"I will go alone," I said. "And you will stay here, and make sure that everyone is fine."

"Whenever you tell me that," he said, with his eyes still fixed on the floor. "Things go inevitably downhill."

I smiled. "Then you're already prepared."

He did not come to see me off. It almost hurt, but I pushed the notion down as best I could. I was going to Midgard and I did not want anyone to rain on my parade.  
Skadi did say goodbye, though she still clearly thought that I was not going to come back. To be fair, I expected the temptation to be there - but I was not going to stay. I had a throne to win back.

Brimir was leading me again. The portal was not as far away as the one leading to Svartalfheim. Where that hike had almost taken a day, we now only walked for a good half hour.  
By now, my Jotun was good enough to keep up a light conversation with my guide, though he sometimes frowned at my terrible grammar and I only understood half of what he said. Still, it was progress.

The portal was a cave that reached deep into a glacier wall. I slipped and stumbled into it, and had to pray to the Norns that I would make it through without breaking my neck. My fingers burned every time I had to steady myself at the walls of the cave and soon ice hang in my hair.

I noticed that I was reaching the end because I suddenly could not see my breath in front of me anymore. It was the first sign that it was getting warmer. The first light I saw was nothing more than a pale dot.  
Then it was getting louder. It was a jumble of noise that I could not pinpoint. My stomach sank; I had hoped to come out somewhere where I would not immediately encounter Midgardians. Not all of them liked to meet who they considered 'aliens'.

Where I came out made no sense to me, though. I stepped out of the shadows and found myself in ruins. The destruction was not fresh though, and there was no one bothered by it. I could not figure out what those ruins had once been, either - I just knew there were a lot of stairs.  
I turned slightly and saw towers rising behind me. That was the kind of building that I knew: it had to be a church. I could hear the screeching of tires, too; we had to be close to a street.

Suddenly there as shouting behind me. Two men in uniform were fast approaching and it suddenly dawned on me: this had to be some kind of historical site. I still could not identify where - I knew it was not Rome, which I had seen before, but that was all I had to go on - but those seemed like the kind of people who worked at those sites.  
This was not good. I could not understand a word they were saying, though the language did not sound entirely unfamiliar; I was thinking maybe Spanish. At least they did not sound friendly.

It occurred to me that I was probably trespassing. Sites like these were usually museums that you had to pay for and _I_ had just appeared out of nowhere. This was not good at all.  
My heart jumped into my throat. I needed to cause a distraction, and fast. Destruction was the first thing that came to mind, but I did not know how precious those ruins were. The next thing I thought of - as usual - was Loki.

A wave of my hand, and copies of me were littered around the site. The two guards skittered to a halt in confusion. One of them grew dangerously pale while the other's gaze darted from one illusion to the other.  
Another flick of my wrist, and the illusions started moving. The guards pointed their tasers at each of them, but dared not approach any. Not once did they even come close to me.

And then, I did not even know how, I was standing on the street. Cars were driving this way and that. Brightly coloured buildings lined the street. It was loud and dirty and full of Midgardians. Exactly what I had not wanted.  
It was also hot and humid and the next wave of my hand changed my clothes into a lighter dress.

The whole situation was not only not good; it was entirely bad. I had no idea where I was, with no means of contacting anyone. I wandered through the streets with tears rising in my eyes. What had I been thinking? I thought of Fenrir and wished that I had let him accompany me; but that would only have made both of us lost.  
Night was falling, and I still had not seen anything that was familiar. The streets cleared quickly, which probably meant that I was not on the safest grounds.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose before I noticed anything else. It was only then, when I listened more closely, that I heard the footsteps behind me. There were at least two, maybe three people. At least one of them a man, more likely two.  
I did not look back. Looking back, I knew, was always the first mistake. Instead, I pretended that everything was fine until there was a sharp edge and I ducked into a dark alleyway.

It was no use. They followed on my heel. My fingers started playing the air like a piano; I might not be a warrior, but no Midgardian should try to get in the way of my magic.

"Hands up!" someone shouted - I was right, a man - and I rolled my shoulders. They could have that.

I turned around, hands raised to strike. Then I saw who was standing before me. "Agent Coulson?"

* * *

 **And... Happy New Year (almost)! Stay safe on New Year's Eve :) I'd say I want to update more regularly next year, but you know how things go with New Year's resolutions, so... but I'm continuing with the story no matter what and hope you will stick with me next year :) See you soon!**


	21. Let Her Go

**It's been a while again... but still, thank to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and most of all to those who reviewed! I really appreciate it :)**

* * *

 **Let Her Go**

* * *

"You'll have to forgive me," I said when I found my voice again. "But I'm positive I saw you die."

Coulson had quickly lead me to the small plane they had arrived with and we were currently boarding. He had been accompanied by two of his team members, a large dark skinned man and a shorter woman who looked like you better not crossed her.

The engines roared and Coulson smirked at me. "Sometimes our eyes deceive us."

"Mine rarely do," I said.  
There had been no escaping. No one survived being speared with a metal scepter, much less when it was magical and wielded by a Norse God.  
Coulson had died. I remembered screaming, I remembered his body sacking and I remembered the self-satisfied expression on Loki's face. There had been no life left in him.

"Mine either," he said. "Which is lucky, because that's how we found you."

I raised an eyebrow. That had probably less to do with his eaglelike eyes and more with S.H.I.E.L.D's technology.  
More than anything else, this was a change of topic that I did not appreciate. If someone came back from the dead, that was not easily swept under the rug.  
Unfortunately, I also knew a lost cause when I saw one. Coulson would not give me the answers I wanted, so my best shot was to get to Tony as quickly as I could and hope that he had answers for me.

"I thought that would be Fury's job," I said. "I hear his eye is excellent at observing."

The woman scoffed and pushed past me towards the cockpit. "Fury's dead," she said.

My gaze followed her until she was out of sight and I turned back to Coulson. "He's dead?"

He squared his shoulders. "Yes."  
He was lying. It was just the twitch of his eyelid and the slight throbbing of the arteries in his neck, but he was definitely lying.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "That's so tragic," I said. "How did it happen?"

He huffed. "You're like your brother."

"Which one?" I asked despite knowing who he meant. No one ever compared me to Thor.  
"Never mind," I said when he faltered. "I know you'd never compare me to the murderous one." His expression shifted from gently amused to hardened by anger. I shrugged. "Though he clearly didn't succeed, so I figure we're all good."

Coulson's expression evened out and I thought about telling him that now _he_ reminded me of Loki. I did not. He had not made me that angry yet.  
A jolt went through the plane and it set into motion. My fingers reached for the nearest stack. My stomach clenched just slightly - I did not quite trust the Midgarian technology.

"I appreciate the rescue, though," I said as the plane rose into the air. The floor shook my fingers clenched tighter for fear of losing my balance.

Coulson nodded. "We watched the Avengers Tower," he said. "And Dr. Selvig's lab in Norway. We never thought you'd come out in the middle of Mexico City."

"It was a gamble," I said. "Our systems aren't as reliable as they used to be."

If he was not inclined to share, then I would not either. It was none of his business that Loki had taken over Asgard's throne or that he had replaced Heimdall as gatekeeper with some feckless nobody.

"I'm actually hoping to meet with Mr Stark," I said.

Coulson shifted his stance and looked out of one of the small windows. I did not want to know how high up we were. "Stark is in Vienna today," he said. "That is a long flight away-"

"I know where Vienna is, thank you very much."  
A year of travelling through Europe did not go by without a basic concept of geography. I also knew where Mexico was; I understood the kind of distance that this meant.  
"But if you can just drop me of in New York-"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," Coulson said.

I raised an eyebrow. What he meant was that he did not want to let me go. Fury might not be in charge anymore - alive or not, I did not know what to make of it yet - but S.H.I.E.L.D had not changed a bit.

"Until we can make contact with Mr Stark, we could well use your assistance."

I hummed in response. I had not come here to help S.H.I.E.L.D; indeed, after the last contact I had with them, I never wanted to help S.H.I.E.L.D again.  
Besides, it could not be hard to get in contact with Tony. The man deviced new forms of communication in his sleep. No, if Coulson pretended not to be able to reach him, he had to have his reasons.

We had reached our intended height and had held it for several minutes when Coulson's female team member exited the cockpit again. Without even once looking at me, she handed Coulson her phone.

"They found Daisy," she said.

Coulson inspected the phone and swiped several times. He exchanged a tense look with his agent and then strode over to me. He swayed slightly in his step because the plane juddered in that very moment. My grip tightened around the stack again.

"Here," he said and held the phone in my direction.

On the screen played the stride of two blue-skinned creatures across a very Midgardian street. "Are those Kree?" I asked.

The woman groaned, but Coulson triumphed. "Told you," he said to her.

She huffed. "Tell us what you know!"

My eyebrows shot up at her commanding tone. The magic tingled in my fingertips. Maybe she should learn what it meant to meet the Queen of Asgard.

"What Agent May meant to say," Coulson said and shot a warning look in his agent's direction. "Is if you would please help us?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Why?" I asked. "Why are there Kree on Midgard?"

"They have been frozen in space," Agent May said.

"Of course," I mocked.

She blinked in confusion. "They came crashing down in a spaceship-"

"Oh, I believe you," I said.  
There were very few things that I was not inclined believe anymore. I swiped across the screen myself and found more pictures of the Kree; on each, they looked more fierce and aggressive.

"What can you tell us?" Coulson asked.

I shook my head. "Absolutely nothing," I said. "We haven't made the contact with the Kree since I've been alive. To me, they are only stories."

"And how do you fight them in stories?" Agent May asked.

I scoffed. "You don't. You just die."

She rolled her eyes. "Aren't you a joy."

I shrugged. If there was a fight with the Kree, I was going to stay far away from it. I was not sure if they would be able to handle it alone - but I trusted Coulson to at least keep the matter quiet and out of sight. He obviously had excellent survival skills, so he would undoubtedly get this situation under control.

The longer the plane was in the air, the more my orientation suffered. By the time we landed on S.H.I.E.L.D's base in the middle of nowhere, I had no idea if I should go north or south or east or west to find Tony. Which rendered my plan to just teleport completely useless - that kind of magic only worked with very precise directions.

Coulson's agents were in the air again the moment we hid the ground; those Kree did not dispose of themselves. Coulson himself lead me into his base, through thick barricaded doors and industrial hallways until we got to his office where the Kree-stricken streets played on large screens.

Coulson pushed me inside, gestured to the two people in coats that waited ("Fitz," he said and, "Simmons", and I had to figure out myself who was who) and disappeared again. If I waited long enough, I might see him on the screen again.

"Hi," the woman offered and extended her hand to me. "I'm Jemma." She pulled the hand back again and frowned at herself. "Do I have to curtsy?"

"No, you're good."

She nodded very seriously, as if she had truly expected I would say yes. "This is Fitz," she waved at her coworker, who awkwardly waved back at me.

I did not offer them my name; they had probably been told the stories, anyway. Instead, I looked back at the screen, where on of the Kree was again marching between generic buildings.

"We think they're only here to kill Hive," the woman told me.

I knew I would regret it the moment the question was out, but I could not help myself. "What in the Norns' name is a hive?"

Immediately, I got told what felt like a whole life story, including several times of travelling through a portal between realms, genetic experiments and rather disturbing form of mind control. All of it had only taken place in the past six months; I already felt a headache coming.

One of the Kree flew from right to left across the screen. All our heads turned to follow the movement. A young woman had sent the creature flying and was panting now, hands outstretched.

"Oh," Jemma groaned. "Daisy..."

"That was impressive," I said. "Is she a magician?"

The man scoffed and Jemma elbowed him in the side. "We, uh, we don't believe in magic," she said. "We're scientists."

I raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"So?" the man demanded. "So, we deal with facts, with provable rules and correlations-"

I smiled. Midgardians and their limited mind. Magic _was_ science, and just because it was a power they could not tap into, that did not mean that there were no rules or correlations. Or facts. My magic was a fact.

"You see magic," I said and gestured to the screen. "Every day, and yet you still don't believe in it."

"That is - that's not-"

"Fitz!" Jemma shushed. "She's right."

I chuckled. "Of course I'm right," I said. "And be glad, cause without it, you'd be lost. Your little human weapons won't do a thing against the Kree. Her magic on the other hand..."

"Is still human," Fitz grumbled. "Because she's human."

"Sure," I said. "Human magic."

He grumbled and I smiled brightly at him. He was probably afraid; I had met such people all my life. Years ago, I had strived to win such people's trust and admiration - but that did not matter to me anymore. I had been reproached, banished, sent to the dungeons for being a witch, but I could not change who I was and I did not want to, either. Should other people worry about being popular.

"I hate aliens," he spat. If he hoped that it would sting, he was disappointed.

"Fitz!" Jemma protested, but he jumped up from his seat and strut out of the room. The woman turned back to me. "I'm very sorry," she said, then she hurried after him.

She did not need to be sorry. Their departure meant that I was left alone and nothing could have been better. While Kree and human sorcerers were still fighting on the screen, I tip-toed around Coulson's office, hoping for clues. At least I needed directions to the nearest city, anywhere that had maps.  
There was nothing to be found, though - whether Coulson did not care to make notes or was paranoid enough to expect just what I was doing, I did not know.

My stomach was clenching. I did not want to be here, and who knew how long Coulson planned to keep me?  
In my frustration, I pressed a few random keys on the keyboard of his computer. The scene on the screens suddenly changed. It was not their magician anymore, but rather the inside of their base, long hallways and labs, and - another one of their airplanes.

In retrospect, I did not know why I thought it was a good idea. I had never flown a plane. I had no sense of orientation whatsoever. I did not know how to get the machine above ground.  
I could not help myself.

I traipsed across the hallways and waved my hands at the cameras so they would not see me; I imagined Coulson had quick means to stop me if only he noticed.

The ramp of the plane descended at another gesture. My heart beat heavily, but my feet carried me forward, anyway. Maybe flying this thing would be just as easy. I only needed to reach the next town, anyway.  
My steps echoed on the cold metal of the plane's interior.

"And where do you think you're going?"

I froze in my steps. "I had the impression Coulson took you with him."

Given the few things I knew now about Coulson and his team, I also thought that they desperately needed Agent May in their fight against the Kree. It seemed almost ridiculous that he would have left her for me.

"I don't trust you," she said.

I pulled a face. "I can't fault you."

When I turned around, she leant against the wall, right where I had stood earlier that day. "You're not leaving," she said.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Listen here," I said. "I don't want to fight, not with you, not with Coulson. But I'm not staying. I want to go see Tony Stark, and I will."

"We told you he isn't in New York-"

"So?" I asked. "I'll wait for him. Your human days mean nothing to me."

It was not entirely true: if anything, my family was known to be impatient. Agent May did not know that, though. For the first time, I saw some of the awe in her gaze that I knew from other Midgardians. Where I usually said, _we are not Gods_ , this was the kind of time when I bathed in such words.

"Coulson will kill me," she ground out between her teeth. "I'll get you to Avengers HQ."  
My mouth opened in surprise; that was a lot better than I had hoped for.  
"But you don't get fly. We still need this plane."

It was probably for the better.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Leave me a review, if you'd like, it would make me very happy :)**


	22. The New Avengers

**I know, I know, it's been so long again. Thanks to everyone who - despite the irregularity - still read, alerted, fav'd and most importantly reviewed! I really appreciate it :)  
Enjoy the new chapter!  
**

* * *

 **The New Avengers**

* * *

Much like Coulson's base, the new Avengers headquarters sat squarely in the middle of nowhere. I asked why they did not stay in New York anymore, but did not get a proper answer out of Agent May. Maybe Tony had gotten tired of them hogging his home.  
Unlike Coulson's base, the architects had not felt the need to hide. The buildings stood there, proud and high, for anyone to see. I discarded my theory from before; all of it screamed 'Tony Stark'. He would never hide, even it if would have been for the better.

The quinjet touched gently onto the platform. Agent May looked over her shoulder at me. "I sent for them to expect you," she said. "But I haven't heard back."

How nice. Tony, as per everything we knew, was still in Europe and everyone I knew with him. Only strangers would wait for me here. I could only imagine how they would react when they found me at their doorstep: the alien queen, the sister of the madman that had destroyed New York.

"Thank you," I said to Agent May. "For being so accommodating."

She pursed her lips. There was no goodbye when she let down the ramp and I got off the plane; I hoped I would never have to see her again.

The air was cooler here than it had been when we boarded. The sun had sunk behind the hills and the small hairs on my arms rose.  
The quinjet took off again the moment I set foot outside. The air swirled around me and the cold crept over my head and beneath my clothes.

Then the doors opened. Two people stepped out, both ready for attack.  
One of them was a girl with dark red hair and dark clothes, her lips pressed into a firm line.  
The other one was not a Midgardian. He could not be, for I had never seen a human with that kind of skin - it looked like a mixture of red rubber and metal. My eyes immediately found the stone that was sunk into his forehead. It had a familiar, foreboding presence, though I could not figure out where it came from.

"Who are you?" the girl demanded.  
Her voice shook and her hands rose as if she wanted to fight me off with her bare fists.

"I am Eirlys of Asgard," I called back.

Her expression turned even more grim. Her fingers splayed out and it created a red mist around her hands.  
She obviously thought herself to be very impressive. I thought it was cute - the little Midgardian girl thought she was a sorceress.

With a slight smile, I raised my hands in surrender. "S.H.I.E.L.D brought me here!"

That did not make it any better. "There is no S.H.I.E.L.D!" the little witch called.

"I imagine Director Coulson would disagree!"

The strange red man bent down to the witch's ear and whispered something. The stone gleamed eerily. She whispered back and I let my hands fall down. This was taking far too long.  
I had their attention back the moment I moved.

"Don't come any closer!" the girl called.

I took another step. She threw her magic.  
I never found out what it would have done, because the blow was so easily stopped that it was almost ridiculous. The girl's eyes went wide; her gaze switched from her hands to me and back.

"I mean no harm!" I continued talking as I walked closer. "I am Thor's sister - I came her for Tony, but as I understand he's not around?"

The girl walked backwards until she could slink behind her companion.

"I know Thor," he said. "He is very attached to his hammer."

I grinned. "So I hear."

"He didn't like when I handled it."

That stopped me dead in my tracks. Had I just heard this man say that he had lifted Mjölnir? I had never heard of anyone who could do that aside from my brother - only those worthy enough could do so, a goal that was so elusive I had always assumed no one could reach it.  
There was no calculation in this man's face, though, no malignity; he had not told me this to stop me. He had said it merely to make conversation.

"I am Vision," he said. "And this is Wanda."

The girl still glared while the red man held out his hand for me. I shook it and hoped that he felt as awkward as I doing it.

"S.H.I.E.L.D told me they had sent you a message," I said, mostly in the girl's direction. "But since you don't know about S.H.I.E.L.D, I figure they might have lied."

"Or," the girl said. "It wasn't S.H.I.E.L.D."

I shrugged. I could have tried to prove it to her - and I remembered quite clearly how Heimdall could put thoughts and images in my head. She would not like that though, and I did not have the patience to try it. Should Coulson keep his anonymity for a while longer.

"Well," Vision said cheerfully. "Maybe we should get inside-"

"NO!" the little witch was almost hysterical. "If she was sent by HYDRA..."

I groaned. "I don't even know what HYDRA is, and I don't care, either-"

"That's exactly what I would say-"

I threw my hands in the air in surrender. I should have just knocked out Agent May and gone straight to New York - did not matter if Tony was coming there, at least I would not have deal with these two idiots.

Then something started beeping. Both of them started; busy hands reached quickly into every pocket they had. It was the red man that was beeping.  
To be more precise, it was his phone that was beeping. He held it so the little witch could see the screen and she immediately shook her head.

He answered anyway. "This is Vision," he said robotically. "How can I help you?"

I did not hear the response, but it was obviously long and winding. Wanda rolled her eyes, but Vision listened with absolute concentration.  
Then he held out the phone to me.

"Mr Stark for you," he said.

My eyebrows rose. I plucked the phone from Vision's hands and held it to my ears. "Tony?"

"Ah, your highness! Thought it was you standing on my porch!"

My lips pulled into a smile. "That's your majesty for you," I said.  
He laughed; I did not know if I had meant it seriously or not.  
"I was trying to see you, but I gather you're very busy."

He coughed, and there was a bit of a pause - the knot in my stomach tightened. I had suspected so much due to Thor's comments, but it sounded like there was something wrong.

"Listen," he said. "I'll be in New York tomorrow. Meet me there."

"Will you call back your watchdogs?" I asked.

"Sure!" he said and was suddenly cheerful again. "Give me to Little Red Riding Hood."

I had no idea what that meant, but Vision certainly was not little - though he was red - so I handed the phone over to the witch.  
She sneered and took the phone so that she did not have to touch me. "Yeah!" she spat.

Her face twisted while Tony spoke. It became more and more scrunched up, and she looked from me, to Vision, and finally at her feet. It took about a minute until she handed the device back to Vision.  
"She can come in," she said.

I liked the tower in New York better.  
That building was personal, it had been the monument Tony's genius. His technology was everywhere here, too, but it did not feel like a home. It felt very cold, and very practical; it looked like a place my father would have built to house his soldiers.

Wanda and Vision seemed at home, though. They moved as if they had no fear in the world; my stomach clenched watching them, because I had spent the last year looking over my shoulder and would continue to.

Wanda ducked away while Vision still gave me a basic tour. They had guest rooms ready, which were exactly as cold and practical as the rest of the place. The furniture was held in the same grey of the walls, except for the bedding in a sanitary white. The mirror above the dresser showed me pale and slender.  
Tomorrow, I told myself. Tomorrow I was going to see Tony, and we would laugh; my heart ached for it already.

Vision offered me a meal that I could not identify; all I was certain of was that it contained a lot of paprika, and tasted as if they had just been cooked for a very long time.

Sleep was not to be thought of. I lay between the cool, white sheets and stared at the ceiling. Something - or someone - was poking at my mind, and since I suspected Loki, I did not give in.

I got up when the clock - the only red thing in the room - showed half past two in the night. On bare feet, I tip-toed out of my room and to where Vision had pointed out the kitchen. I did not know what I hoped to find - maybe some pizza, which was very hard to explain to Asgardian cooks - but I found nothing desirable in the fridge.  
During my rummaging, I did not notice that the kitchen door swung open behind me again. I only noticed the little witch when I had shut the fridge and turned around again.

Her hands were raised again in the defensive, but this time the red glimmer was not ready for the attack; instead, it was wrapped around her like a cocoon.

I raised my hands as well to show my goodwill. "Couldn't sleep," I said. "Thought I might find something to eat."

The muscles in her jaw were clenching, but she nodded stiffly and after a few tense moments dropped her spell. Without taking her eyes off of me, she moved to the sink. Another glimmer of red made a glass float from its shelf under the water jet.

"Your powers are very impressive," I offered and leant back against the fridge.

The anger practically radiated off of her. I wondered if her magic became a deeper red when she got angry. "There's no need to be patronising."

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm not patronising," I said. "I mean it."

She huffed. The full glass set itself down counter. "You easily thwart me," she said.

"Well, I've been practicing for centuries," I said and omitted that it was going strongly on a thousand years. "You've had your powers for how long?"

Her gaze dropped to the ground. "Two years," she muttered.

That surprised me. After two years, I had barely been able to do anything, much less fight like she did. I squared my shoulders. "I should hope that I would surpass you."

"Centuries...," she repeated thoughtfully.

"Many of them," I said gently.

She shook her head. "I won't have that time."

My lips twitched. "In my experience, humans are capable of amazing things in their limited time."

Which was very true - Tony Stark had built more things, made more advances in his short time on earth than I, or anyone I knew, had achieved in their millenia.  
Wanda did not seem convinced. She turned away and pushed her hair behind an ear. There was a deep sadness in her that I did not want to ask after - it was the kind of thing you did not talk about with strangers.

"When I can," I said. "I'll send you some of my old books."

She scoffed. "Will I even be able to read them?"

My eyebrows shot up. "If you can't work a simple translation spell, I don't think you have any business reading those books."

Her eyes gleamed. She liked a challenge. "Teach me, then."

I had never been a teacher - if Loki and I had studied something, that had always been a cooperative effort - but I found I enjoyed the task.  
Wanda was an apt student. Her powers were barely limited, she just had never practiced. Aside from the simplest of attack and defense, there was nothing she could do. Her greatest challenge was focus, but once it clicked, there would be no stopping her.

We did not sleep for the rest of the night. The next morning, Vision found us over freshly brewed coffee, tired but happy.

Tony had arranged for his personal jet to come and pick me up, but he had arranged for it late in the morning; Vision therefore cooked us some eggs that barely tasted like eggs and burnt toast with a lot of butter.  
I watched Vision and Wanda laughing together and found that all of this was very relaxing.

Vision's phone beeped again. Big red fingers swiped across the screen. His brow furrowed. "Mr Stark says he will be late."

"The jet will be late?" I asked.

"No," he said. "Seems he's just not going to be in New York on time."

I sighed. "What's he doing in Vienna, anyway?" Wanda and Vision exchanged a glance that told me I had found yet another bit of trouble on Midgard. "What?"

Wanda's cup landed hard on the tabletop. "They want to lock us up!"

"They didn't say that," Vision said.

"I know people like them!"

\- "People like Mr Stark?"

I waved my hands between them to shut them up. "Maybe one of you wants to explain?"

By their explanation, Tony and a few others wanted to forbid them from using their powers; unless, that was, some organisation allowed it. The way they said it, it sounded like using their powers now depended on the mercy of a mad king. I seriously doubted that was something Tony would voluntarily sign up for.

Which I said, but they were adamant, that _yes_ , this was what Tony wanted. I suspected that they might have left a few bits of the story unsaid.

"Maybe you can talk to him?" Wanda said and there was suddenly another gleam in her eyes, a calculating, ambitious one. "You two ar friends?"

"Oh, I will," I said, and added in my mind, _Not for you. If anything, then for him._

* * *

 **Leave me a review, if you please. It would make me very happy!**


	23. The Unquiet Dead

**All right people, I don't even know when I updated last and I'm very sorry. I hope y'all enjoy the new chapter, anyway.**

* * *

 **The Unquiet Dead**

* * *

I landed in New York early that afternoon. The tower was filled with very finely but completely black clad people, yet there was no one that I knew.  
So instead of staying and getting to know yet another set of Midgardians, I set out for the city. I was awfully tired, and figured that fresh air would do me good. I had not considered how hard that would be to come by.

I tried not to be run over and headed to where the streetsigns pointed out a park.  
I had thought the breakfast that day had been relaxing, but walking the streets of New York was even more so. No one recognized me; in fact, if I stayed out of people's path, no one paid any mind to me at all.  
No one in the large pool around the next traffic light even looked at me sideways. It allowed me to very closely at them, though.

The last time I had been here, the city had been almost entirely destroyed, but no one seemed afraid.  
One girl next to me wore a way too large hat and a device that played music into her ears so loud it would probably soon make her deaf. And that old man - that old man only had one eye.

My mouth dropped open; in that moment, the light turned to green and I only got moving because someone bumped into me from behind.  
That man, who was very slowly and carefully moving across the street, looked exactly like my father. Only that could not be right, could it? Loki had told me himself that he had killed Odin.

On the other hand... maybe I had more suggested it and he had not denied it. My brother did tend to lie.  
The street sign pointed in the opposite direction, but I followed carefully after the old man. The way in which he moved was foreign to me - my father had always been standing tall and impressive - but I knew his face; and I knew his voice when he bought a newspaper at a stand on the street.

My father turned around and almost walked into me. I froze as his gaze met mine; the old gleaming metal eyepatch had been replaced by a nude coloured piece of cloth. He looked older than I had ever seen him.

"Outta my way!" he barked.

It hit me like a slap in the face. He did not know who I was. "I'm sorry," I said. "I thought I knew you."

"Don't know anyone 'round here!"

He pushed past me and when I turned, he was already half the block away. Tears rose in my eyes. It seemed like every possible emotion swirled through me at the same time. My father was still alive, and I was glad. I was also devastated; if he did not know who he was, and who I was - who my brothers were, who our mother had been - then he might as well be dead.  
Loki had not killed him after all. Maybe I should have known. I should have known that he was both more merciful and more cruel.

Before I knew it, my feet took me after him. Who knew where was living here? My heart sank. Surely, he was not living on the street? He had looked worn down, but not _that_ worn down. On the other hand, I had no idea what homelessness on Midgard looked like.

Loud honking pulled me out of my trance. I blinked and found Tony leaning over the passenger seat of his sport's car, the window rolled down.

"Hey, your majesty!" he called, a broad grin on his face. "May I offer you a ride in my carriage?"

My eyes travelled down the street again. Odin was nowhere to be seen; in a city like New York, I would never find him again. My heart clenched, but I had no choice. I pulled open the door and let myself drop into the seat. The moment the door was closed, Tony sped away.

"You were late," I said when the silence remained.

"Yeah," Tony said. "I had to go for a cup of coffee." When I raised an eyebrow, he ducked his head. "It's a long story."

Odin was not anywhere to be seen, still. "I have time," I said.

He huffed. "How about," Tony said. "Shawarma first?"

I took him up on his offer. The joint he picked was a small, slightly dirty one, but it had the charming advantage that the owner did not care in the slightest that Tony was famous. Indeed, he berated him for parking his car directly in front of the door.

I let Tony eat half of his sandwich before I spoke up. "How was Vienna?"

Tony sent me a damning look. "Do you really want to talk about it?"

"Well, yes," I said. "For days I've been told that you were on a _very important mission_ and I'd finally like to know more."

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, your majesty, lean back, this is going to be a long story."

It was a long story. It began with Loki's scepter; it dragged over the creation of an artificial intelligence that thought destroying humanity was the best course for Midgard. There was its destruction and there was Vision; I now knew why the stone in his forehead had felt so familiar. It was the stone that had been in Loki's scepter before.  
The artificial intelligence had been destroyed, but the effects still lingered. The fight had destroyed a whole city, not to mention the lives it had cost; and it seemed Midgard was not happy with their Avengers anymore.

It was for that reason that Tony had gone to Vienna. The world community wanted to be sure that people like Tony could not act by their own judgement, could not destroy at a mere whim.

"And, listen, we did make mistakes, the whole thing was my mistake." His voice grew more and more frantic. "It's for the best if someone else decides when we act."

Wanda's version of the story had sounded a little different. She seemed to think that they would lock them up, and maybe I she was right. I knew firsthand how people got when they were confronted with witchcraft.

I traced my hand over the edge of my glass. "That doesn't sound like you at all."

He shrugged. "Don't know what sounds like me, anymore."

I narrowed my eyes at him. He sounded sad, which was the thing that most did not sound like him. What had happened to him since we had last spoken?

Tony seemed to have noticed my worry. "Look, I'm fine," he said. "But I'm right, aren't I? We think we can do anything, and so we do, and maybe we're just not the smartest. And it's not like we won't get to help, anymore. We'll just do it when we're called."

I hummed. "What if they don't call you?"

He groaned. "You sound just like Cap."

He said it like it was an insult. A slight rivalry had always been between them, but the venom in his voice was new.  
"I can tell you don't want to hear it," I said gently. "But maybe he has a point."

Tony scoffed. "Please, he just wants to protect his boyfriend."

That threw me a bit, mostly because Steve had never struck me as the type. I studied Tony and figured that it might have been a joke - but it also was not the point here. "I don't know about that," I said. "But I know about you. Okay, you've made a mistake. So? You fixed it. You can't chastise yourself forever."

His eyebrows rose. "So you think it's a bad idea?"

"I didn't say that." I leant back and grinned at him. "I head a monarchy, I'm all for the centralisation of power. I just don't think you are."

My words had hit their mark, I could see it on his face. As any Midgardian I knew, Tony instinctively rejected the idea of being ruled.  
I had underestimated how much he did not want to talk, though; and my words had been the perfect opportunity to change the subject.

"Speaking of," he said and I groaned. "How come 'your highness' isn't good enough anymore?"

I sighed. I saw Odin's face before me again, old and ill as he stood in New York's streets. It did not matter: 'your highness' would never be good enough again.

"My father is dead," I said and it almost felt true. "Thor doesn't want the throne... So that just leaves me."

Tony raised a mocking eyebrow. "Don't tell me Reindeer Games hasn't made any claims."

I scoffed. "Well, he's the one who killed our father and now he sits on the throne pretending to be him."  
For that, he would have deserved for me to bring Odin back; if it had not been so against everything I wanted, I might as well have done it.

Tony shook his head at me. "And what? Now you're going to kill him?"

I shrugged. "Probably not," I said. "You know we're peculiar like that."

He laughed. A loud, full-bodied, joyful laugh that shook the glasses on our table and made heads turn across the restaurant. He laughed _at_ me, but it twisted my lips up, anyway. If someone else had told me this, I would have laughed, too.

"Peculiar," Tony wheezed out when he finally caught his breath. "I'll say."

Our idyll did not last long. We made our way back to the tower in high spirits, but the face of the concierge already made us falter. He mumbled that 'Miss Romanow' was waiting for Tony upstairs.  
Tony shot me a dark look, but patted the man on the shoulder silently. A shadow had fallen on his face and his jaw clenched. My stomach turned at the sight; Tony was so good at keeping a stiff upper lip, he had almost fooled me before. Things were obviously terribly askew.

Natasha was not very pleased to see me. She sighed exaggeratedly when I stepped out of the elevator behind Tony.  
"When you said you were getting support, I wasn't thinking _aliens_ ," she said to him.

"I didn't _get_ her," Tony said. "She's just here by chance."

That was not entirely true, but it was fine if they wanted to believe it; did not all the actions of Gods look like mere chance to the mortals?

"But if I can help," I interjected. "I'd be glad to."

Natasha examined me from head to toe and finally jerked her head in assent. Then she turned back to Tony. "Steve got away."

He cursed. His phone landed with a heavy throw on a counter top and the display splintered. Tony did not care; he swore again and would probably have slammed the door behind him if it had not been an automated sliding door.  
Natasha shook her head at his way out.

"What do you mean?" I asked gently. "Steve got away?"

It turned out Tony had left out some major points in his story. Like how someone had been killed at the signing of the accords. How the murderer had been a friend of Steve's. Or how the captain had been incarcerated after an attempt to rescue said friend from captivity.

"You don't seem as upset," I said, vaguely gesturing at the direction of Tony's departure.

She shrugged. "Steve's our friend," she said.

"And a very upstanding citizen," I joked.

She rolled her eyes. "Ain't that just the problem?" With an easy jump, she sat down on one of the countertops. "Steve's afraid of big government, and I get it, you know, he fought the Nazis and whatnot-"

"I don't know anything about that," I interrupted. Natasha's brow furrowed, but I did not give her time to protest. "But I know the lot of you. You're able to save people and if you don't, you feel guilty. And sometimes, you cause collateral damage, and you also feel guilty. You need someone else to do all that worrying for you. You'll feel better."

She huffed. "You sound an awful lot like your brother."

"Which one?" I joked. There was only ever one brother that I sounded like. "What I mean is, someone's got to be responsible and it's better if it's not the soldiers. No subjugation intended."

Natasha raised an eyebrow at me. "I just think it's the best way to gain back trust," she said. "People aren't very fond of us wreaking havoc unchecked."

The sliding door opened again. If Tony had heard our conversation, he did not show it. He took one look at his phone, sneered and then turned toward Natasha.

"We're bringing Cap in," he said.

Natasha jumped off the counter in a smooth movement not unlike a cat. "Are you sure?"

He did not dignify that with an answer. Instead, he waved at me. "C'mon, then," he said. "You wanted to help, now you can."

* * *

 **Leave me a review, if you please, and I promise I won't abandon this story :)**


	24. Allies

**Will you look at that? I'm on time ;) Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and most of all to Fin-Fish Jun-Tenshi for reviewing. I appreciate it :) I hope y'all enjoy the new chapter!**

* * *

 **Allies**

* * *

We took Tony's jet, which reminded me strongly of the S.H.I.E.L.D jet I had recently flown with, except Tony assured me it was much, much better. Natasha boarded first and waited inside; and she had to wait for quite a while, because there were other allies yet to join us. Tony disappeared again for another trip around New York and came back with a human that had barely outgrown infancy.  
His eyes grew wide when he stepped on the plane and took in the commodities and all the blinking features. He almost fainted when he got introduced to Natasha and he did an awkward little bow when Tony introduced me as the 'Queen of Asgard' which was not entirely accurate.

He held out his hand to me, but pulled it back almost immediately. "I'm," he stuttered and pushed his hair out of his face. "Uh-"

"Uh?" I repeated.

The boy turned red before my very eyes and Tony had to step in for him. "That's Peter," he said and patted the boy on his shoulder. "He got bit by a spider and now he has superpowers."

"Sure," I said.

Peter looked from me to Tony and back as if he could not believe what had just happened. I imagined this was not the usual reaction when he told his story. If he told the story at all.

"Why don't you sit down, kid," Tony told him.

The boy ducked his head. "Sure thing, Mr. Stark."

He skipped towards the cockpit and with a proud grin slumped into the seat next to Natasha. She did not talk to him.  
I turned back to Tony and saw him grinning almost as proudly as the boy. When he met my gaze, the grin suddenly vanished.

"What?" he asked.

I held up my hands in defense. "I didn't say anything."

"You thought loudly enough," he said.

I sighed. "I didn't know we were bringing kids into this."

"Not kids," Tony said sharply and his chin rose defiantly. "Just one. Almost an adult, anyway." I raised an eyebrow and he added, "Sixteen."

I shook my head at him. "Sixteen is not an adult," I said.

"Maybe not in Asgard-"

"In Asgard, a boy of sixteen is still a toddler," I interrupted. "But that's not the point."

Tony groaned. He took off his sunglasses and put them back on again in almost the same movement. "He's old enough, okay? He wants to be here."

I believed that at once. Which pubescent boy would not jump at the chance to go to war with his hero? That did not mean that his wish should be granted. It rather meant that it was Tony's job to look out for the boy, to make sure that he did not do the exact thing that he was doing now.

"I just worry," I said.

"Of course you do." Tony pushed himself away from the wall. "We need to take off."

As if on cue, Natasha let the engines roar into life. My stomach sank ever more as I sat down in my own seat and buckled up. Putting myself in danger was one thing - and the danger to my life was very limited, seeing as I was an Asgardian fighting against mere humans - but dragging children along was another. It was nothing short of irresponsible putting someone that young on the battlefield; and it would not only endanger the boy, but everyone else who would try to protect him.

Our next stop was indeed not wherever the captain was hiding; Tony and Natasha wanted to pick up yet another ally. It had taken hours to get there. The kid had dosed off almost the minute we had taken off. If Tony had slept, I could not say - I had leant my head against the window and watched the ocean speed by beneath us.

Where we landed, I could not possibly say. Natasha did not disclose any location and I was not able to recognize anything from up above. We landed in the middle of the night, so other than a lot of of bright lights, I could not make out anything characteristic.

Natasha went to get the person and Tony almost had to physically hold Peter back. "But, like, who are we picking up?" the kid insisted. "Thor? Hawkeye? Ooh, don't tell me it's the Hulk!"

"It's not the Hulk," Tony said. He looked back at me. "You'll like him, he's all up in that whole monarchy thing."

My eyebrows rose. I did not know what 'that whole monarchy thing' was supposed to be and I also did not know why that would make me like anyone.  
The man that Natasha brought back did not look like he was 'all up' in anything. Dark and broad shouldered, he looked like he was a no nonsense sort of person.

Natasha waved her hand between us. "King T'Challa of Wakanda," she introduced the man. "This is Eirlys of Asgard."

"Queen of Asgard, if you please," I corrected.

"And it's Prince T'Challa," the man said. "There has been no time for the necessary ceremonies yet."

A smile tugged at my lips. "I haven't ever sat on my throne," I told him. "Let's not get held up with technicalities."

The corners of his lips twitched slightly, but I did not gain a proper smile. Tony patted me on the shoulder. "His father was killed in the attack in Vienna," he explained.

"My condolences," I said.

He nodded jerkily. Natasha groaned and pushed past us. "Let's get going!" she announced.

I slumped back into my seat. T'Challa sat down in the seat next to me. His posture was impeccable; he kept his back in a straight line.

"I never heard of Asgard," he said. "I have to apologize."

"It's in the sky!" Tony yelled from the front.

T'Challa's eyebrows rose but slightly, and I hurried to explain. "It is another realm," I said. He nodded again, as if that was a thing that he heard all the time.  
"I haven't heard of Wakanda, either," I offered.

"We enjoy our privacy," he said.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "And yet you are here. Why aren't you planning a private burial for your father? Surely that's custom?"

His eyes met mine directly for the first time. "My father's death needs to be avenged," he stated as surely as if he had talked about the weather.

The engines roared around us. I looked him up and down. He meant it, I had no doubt. There was a hurt in his eyes that I recognized. The situation was all too familiar.  
"I lost my mother in an attack," I told him. "The enemy stabbed her in her own bedroom. I was hiding in a closet, she wanted to protect me."

T'Challa shifted in his seat. "I am sorry."

I shook my head slightly. That was not the point of my story. "I swore to avenge her. I broke a criminal out of prison to do it. I stole a spaceship. I hurt some of our soldiers. And in the end we killed the murderer."

He smiled now. His eyes shone with understanding. "Did it help?"

"No," I said flatly. "It made everything infinitely worse. And my mother's still dead and I still hurt."

"I hear you," he said. "But should my father's death really go without retribution?"

I sighed and leant back in my chair. "I don't know if it should, but maybe it must."

We rose into the sky. Tony, across from us, took of his seat belt even though all the warning lamps were still brightly shining. T'Challa frowned at him.

"So," he said without taking his eyes off Tony sipping on his bourbon. "How can one be a queen and never sit on the throne?"

I picked at my fingernails. "My brother occupied it by coup d'état."

He was silent for a moment. When I looked back at him, he was smirking. "And yet you are here," he said. "Why aren't you planning the overthrow?"

I had to smile, too. "I am, don't you worry."

"All right!" Tony had appeared in the door to the cockpit again. "We're almost there. Anyone want to know the plan?"

If we were entirely honest, there was not much of a plan. Tony's idea was to just march up, confront Steve and hope that he would come quietly. I had told him that I did not think that would work, and he agreed - he did not tell me plan B.  
I assumed it was to take Steve by force, which explained why we were all here. Tony was preparing for a big fight. For a war-like battle.

I flexed my fingers to feel the magic sparkling between them. When I had come to Midgard, I had not known that I would be required to fight. I might have brought a sword if I had - but then, anything my magic could do would probably be more effective than me with a sword. Before we marched on Asgard, I should definitely take up the fencing lessons again.

"Ready, then?" Tony asked, fiddling with a device strapped to his arm.  
Peter was behind him, almost bouncing with excitement. My heart clenched at the sight. "Ready to go, Mr Stark!" he chirped.

Tony's expression darkened. "You keep your distance," he ordered. "Web 'em up from afar."

The boy frowned, but nodded obediently. Tony studied him for a moment and, when he was satisfied, turned round to me. "And you-"

"I can take care of myself, thank you very much."

His eyebrows shot up. I was done being pushed in the background; I was maybe not a warrior, but I was more than proficient sorceress and did not need to be protected in battle.

T'Challa passed me from behind. "You must think of your people," he said to me. "Don't take unnecessary risks."

"Back to you," I said. " _Your majesty_."

Tony shot me another warning glance, then he was off. As he stepped out of the plane, his armour wrapped safely around him. He walked with more confidence, then.  
I followed behind more slowly to where I could see the scene play out. Steve was alone, but the way he stood suggested he was waiting - and if he was waiting for Tony, then he was not alone.

Peter bounded past me in a full-body suit covered with subtle spider-web patterns. I cursed under my breath. I knew his kind of excitement; I had seen it on my brothers' faces before. It usually lead to the worst kind of injuries.  
The boy had vanished from sight, but I arrived in time to see him rip the shield right from Steve's hands with thin white strips that looked a lot like spider webs.

"Bitten by a spider," I whispered to myself.

Peter was talking himself into a frenzy, but he lost the attention when I stepped into Steve's line of sight. The soldier actually smiled.

"Eirlys," he greeted.

"Captain."

He shook his head at Tony. "You've been busy."

"And you've been a complete idiot!" Tony exploded. "Dragging in Clint. 'Rescuing' Wanda from a place she doesn't even want to leave, a safe place! I'm trying..." He stumbled over his words. After a deep breath, he added, "I'm trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart."

Steve squared his shoulders. "You did that when you signed."

Tony's jaw clenched. "Alright, we're done. You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us. Come on."

Steve hesitated for a moment. Then, with a jolt, he raised up his hands. With a buzzing sound, an arrow shot through the air and cut the web between Steve's hands in two.  
I turned to look over my shoulder, but Barton was nowhere to be seen. There was no doubt it was him, though; who else could shoot like that?

Peter had been knocked down by a man who seemed to have appeared out of the blue. I would have guessed magic, but Midgardians were not usually prone to that.  
As if to mock my very thoughts, I spotted Wanda on a deck a few feet above us. The lights playing around her fingers flickered when she spotted me.

Tony started barking out orders. "There's two on the parking deck," he spoke into his communication device. "One of them's Maximoff-"

"I'll take her," I said to him. "We're overdue."

He nodded jerkily. My eyes fixed back on Wanda. I took two steps, and a deep breath, and the third step landed on the parking deck.  
Peter was shouting into my earpiece ( _That was fucking amazing! How on earth-)_ , but Tony luckily shut him down. Wanda had slowly backed away. She waved at Clint to back away, too.

"Stay away from her," she warned. "She's a-"

"If you say witch," I said. "I'm going to actually hurt you."

Barton laughed a little, but he pointed his next arrow straight at me. "How's your brother doing?"

My mouth quirked. "I'm actively trying to make him as miserable a possible."

He shrugged. "Good enough."

Wanda's mouth dropped open when Clint lowered his bow and in a move that would have made any of his teammates proud, swung himself off the platform to land right in front of Tony.

The little witch turned back to me and raised her hands. "You call me witch all the time."

"If you ever come to rule your world," I said. "I'll gladly call you queen instead."

Her jaw tightened and her magic flared up again. "Fine then," she rasped out. "Let's do this."

* * *

 **Leave me a review, if you please, and I'll do my very best to be on time next time, too ;)**


	25. Hell Bent

**So... I haven't updated for a while AGAIN, but I got a review today which was about the nicest way anyone ever asked me to update ( doesn't display it right now, but still), so I pulled myself together and here goes. Please enjoy!**

* * *

 **Hell Bent**

* * *

Wanda's hand twisted upwards. At first, I thought it had not worked; then I saw one of the cars behind her lifted from the deck. I watched in fascination as it hovered over our heads. Not bad, I had to admit.  
My own arm stretched out towards it. Wanda cursed as the red colour faded from around it and it inevitably belonged to me. Very gently, the four wheels touched ground again.

"Nice try," I said.

Wanda's eyes narrowed at me. I almost expected her to bare her teeth at me - Loki might have - but instead her hands balled into tight fists. Around us, every car except the one in my power rose up. She was starting to impress me.

I rolled my shoulders and heard my neck to crack a little. My hand drew a circle above me and created a shield. The first car she threw at me crumbled into metallic dust far above my head.  
Wanda was angry now. Her brows had furrowed and her cheeks had flushed. Another car crumbled above me; she screamed at the futility.

I walked towards her, slow, deliberate steps. "What are you doing, little witch?" I asked. "You and I have no quarrel."

Her expression suddenly calmed and a funny feeling settled in my stomach. I knew that kind of expression. Loki always wore it when he had come up with a particularly evil scheme.

"You're right," she said. "It's between _him_ and me."

The first few seconds seemed to take forever. The cars moved over our heads, never touching my protective shield; my gaze followed their prospective direction. Tony. Tony, hovering in his suit far over the ground.

"No," I breathed out.

"He locked me in my room," she said eerily.

My heart rate sped up. "Bit exaggerated, don't you think?"  
The first car came crashing down. It missed Tony by mere inches. He yelled something unintelligible; another car falling knocked him off his feet. I prayed to the Norns that his suit protected him well.  
"He did it to protect you," I wheezed out.

Wanda scoffed. "That's what they always say!" She laughed, and it sounded like she had lost her mind. " _All of them,_ " she repeated. "They all say it. _It's for your best! We're just doing this to help you! We want to keep you safe_!"  
Her eyes gleamed and - I might have imagined it - the red of her magic darkened. When she spoke again, her voice was deadly cold. "It's always a lie."

Cars started raining down on Tony. I grit my teeth and dropped my shield. She wanted a real fight? She could have it. The next cars froze in midair. Her eyes widened a little bit while, with a twist of my wrist, the cars rose higher and turned in her direction.

"We all have sad stories, little witch," I called. "That's no excuse not do the right thing."

She broadened her stance slightly as if she thought she could parry the blow. "And you decide what is right?"

There had been enough talking for my taste. "Last chance!"

She did not give up. Her hands rose again for a fight. I drew in a deep breath and closed my eyes for just a second.  
The cars fell from the sky where they had hung. There was an ear-battering crash; metallic pieces splattered everywhere. Wanda had to jump out of the way and rolled onto concrete. I used the ensuing chaos; with just one step I teleported to her side. With one foot, I stepped onto her shoulder.

"I won," I chirped.

She glared. Her fingers wrapped around my ankle and with a sharp tug, she brought me to the floor. My back hit the floor; the air was knocked out of my lungs and I struggled to breathe again. Wanda climbed to her feet. She stood over me, her face lightened by the red glow of her magic.  
Air flowed back into my lungs. I kicked her chin as hard as I could; I had thought it an unfortunate attempt because of the weird angle, but she cursed loudly and stumbled backwards.

I pushed myself up. "That's enough of you."  
Conjuring was not my forte and the ropes I created therefore had a dirty, turquoise colour. They did their job just fine, though and wrapped tightly around Wanda's body, from head to toe. She struggled, twisting her body on the floor.  
"If it's any consolation," I said. "You're a worthy opponent."

Tony had picked himself out of the rubble and, judging by the workings of his suit, was relatively unscathed. He was shooting through the air towards the opposing fighters, but was knocked off course by an exploding arrow, probably shot by Agent Barton.  
Peter was swinging through the air and was almost hit by the Iron Man suit hurtling by. He had just made it when the string he swung on was abruptly cut off by the captain's shield. It turned round like a boomerang and sailed back to Steve.

I felt the strain of the teleportation this time; sooner or later I would have to tap into my other power sources. I passed by Peter, who picked himself up slowly. His mask had been lost and revealed several cuts and bruises on his face.

"Hey." I placed a hand on his arm as he swayed. "Are you all right?"

"Sure thing," he said and sounded like he was absolutely not sure.

I tightened my grip on his arm and his eyes met mine. "You go back to the jet."

"But-"

"That's an order."

He suddenly appeared much younger again; acceptance washed over his features. He grumbled a little, but took his chance to bow out.  
When he hobbled out of my sight, I could see Steve walking towards me, his rogue shield back in his hand.

I raised my chin. "Are you happy now?" I called.

His steps faltered slightly. "There's a lot going on here that you don't understand."

"Funny," I said. "That's what I always say to people that I don't want to talk to."

Steve shook his head. His gaze roamed across the airfield: Barton was now sparring with Natasha and Wakanda's king had tackled a black-dressed man that I did not recognize; he was probably the one that we were here for.

"Tony's after the wrong guy," Steve said.

"Tony's trying to do what's right."

\- "So am I!"

I scoffed. "He gave you an out! You're the one fighting." I pointed where Peter had just dragged himself away. "That boy is just sixteen."

His face fell. Once again, his gaze travelled around the battle. "Tony's gone mad," he said. "That treaty would be our curse."

"You're a soldier," I said. "Tell me, shouldn't someone be in charge?"

His eyes suddenly met mine and they burned with a fierce passion. "Yes," he said. "But who?"

There was no time to respond. The shield knocked hard against my chest and I was catapulted backwards. For the second time that day, I landed hard on my back and this time, I heard something crack. Pain shot through my ribcage when I tried to take in a deep breath. I would have cursed had I had the air to do so. What kind of human weapon could break an Asgardian's rib?

I rolled onto my side and grit my teeth against the sharp pain shooting through my body. I could only breathe shallowly and therefore it took considerable effort to roll onto my knees and sit up.  
My vision was slightly blurry. Because of that, I first thought that the giant treading across the airfield was merely a trick of the eye. As I blinked through pain, it became obvious that there really was a giant treading across the airfield.

" _Odin's beard_ ," I muttered.

Two metallic clanks sounded behind me. "You see that, too, right?" Tony asked.

My voice was as weak as my breathing. "What is that?"

Tony hesitated for just a second. A second in which an engine roared loudly from one of the hangars. "A distraction," he said.

His iron-armed fingers dug into the skin right under my armpit and he pulled me up. The pain shot through me again, and I bit my lip so hard that it bled to keep from screaming. Once on my feet, I leant against Tony to keep upright.

"Whoa, princess. You all right?"

I groaned. "Just peachy."

Two people shot across the sky, one in a suit not unlike the one Tony wore and one with what looked like wings strapped onto his back. They were following the quinjet that had busted out of one of the hangars and was rapidly gaining height.

I swayed when Tony let go of me. With a woosh of his engines, he had taken off and was following the jet.  
Before he had even come close, a bright string of light shot through the air. The man with the wings ducked out of the way in the last second. Instead, it hit the man in the iron suit. The light sliced right through the armour - it was almost like magic.

Tony screamed loudly. The flight of the man faltered; for just a moment he hung motionless in the air. Then he hurtled non-braked towards the ground. Black smoke emitted from the suit.  
Both Tony and the other man dived after him, but they were not fast enough. The fallen knocked onto a field of grass nearby.

Tony touched ground just a few seconds too late. The man with the wings hovered slightly above them. I could not hear what he said, but could hear Tony cursing at him.

Every step was painful and by the time I had reached the wounded man, my vision swam again. Tony, touching ground beside us, became one swirl of colour.  
A hand was laid on my back to steady me. A gentle voice soothed me as they guided me onto my knees on the ground. It was Vision, I realized dazedly; I had not known he was here at all.

"Mr Stark," he said. "I think she's broken a rib."

"I don't care!" Tony's face was suddenly very clear before my eyes. "Hey, princess, I know you can help my friend. You healed me right up, I remember it! Surely you can-"

"Tony," I wheezed out. "I'm sorry."

If I healed anyone right now, it had to be me. I did not have the strength to do anything else; I did not even have the strength to reach out for help, though the power of the shapeshifters would have surely healed me. I could not even feel the usual prickle of magic in my fingertips.

I had put a barrier between Loki and I those past few days, just pushed his presence to the back of my mind. I had not wanted to share my location with him, nor what I experienced here. Seeing Odin on the streets of New York just made me push all the harder.  
Now, kneeling in a pit on some German airport, with a broken rib and friends even more severely wounded, I could not keep him away anymore.

My vision blackened at the edges. My body swayed lightly, which sent shockwaves of pain through me.  
And then he was suddenly there. His presence that had just been a little nag in the back of my head those last days, was suddenly within every fibre of my being. I could almost taste him.

For once, I could feel what he was feeling. At first, he was curious, but that curiosity quickly changed into worry. I did not want him to worry. Afterwards, I could not say where the urge came from and why it was so clear in my mind, but I did not want him to worry.  
I wanted to square my shoulders, push myself up and prove that I was fine; I was not. I was pushed down again. It almost felt like he had physically put a hand on my shoulder.

I blinked, and expected to see him before me. All I saw was Tony still kneeling by his friend. Flashing blue lights illuminated the scene; only on the second glance did I recognize the ambulance.  
I could _feel_ Loki though. He was right there with me.

Warmth spread through my chest. The magic was prickling again. The pressure inside me released and I took in a deep breath and it did not hurt.  
Relief flooded through me; the emotion was echoed back immediately.

"Thank you," I muttered, though he could better feel than hear me.

He squeezed my hand - or maybe that was just my imagination, or maybe he really squeezed all of me.

Exhaustion washed through me. My eyes burned with fatigue. I wanted to tell him, suddenly, I wanted him to know everything I had found here, I wanted him to know I had seen our father - and it was fine, I was not mad at him; I wanted to run to him and hug him. I wanted to fall asleep in his arms.  
My heart ached because I could do none of those things. Later, when I thought more clearly, I hated that I let him know it.

At that moment, all I could feel was his absence, and the loss of him even in my mind; when he knew I was healed, he disappeared as quickly as he had come.  
Fatigue and desperation overtook me. Maybe I heard Tony's voice before I passed out, but that, too, might have been wishful thinking.

* * *

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